My KInd Of Hip Hop

Saturday afternoon I walked across the backyard toward the sweet corn patch.  I am a little concerned about it as it is yellow-looking and isn't growing as it should.  I think it needs some chicken litter to get it moving.  As I was walking to the corn patch, something caught my eye.  Something brown ran past me.  I turned to look and thought I caught sight of a rat running into a big pile of sticks that we had collected from a recent storm.

I'm not a fan of rats.  I kill them on sight.  I walked over to the woodpile with the intention of trying my best to kill the rat.  However, as I looked down into the pile, I pulled this little critter out:

That's not a rat!  It was a young, female bunny rabbit.  I picked her up and brought her inside.  I could feel her heart beating at a rapid pace inside her chest.  The poor little thing was scared.  I gave her to Benjamin to pet for a while.

My first instinct was to go get a cardboard box and try to raise it, but we've learned with other rabbits, squirrels, wood ducks, and other critters, that wild animals are best left in the wild.  I told Benjamin that in the woods just to the south of the hen house, I had seen two adult rabbits the week before in the tall grass.  I'd bet anything that they were this little rabbit's family.

Benjamin set her down amidst a dense canopy of grass and weeds and underbrush. She blended in nicely and you could hardly see her.



She hippity hopped into the woods.  Benjamin tried to follow her and saw one of the adult rabbits I was telling him about.  I'm sure it was the bunny's mom or dad.  We were happy to have reunited the family and saved the little bunny rabbit's life.  Big Boy, our great Pyrenees dog would have eaten the little rabbit as an appetizer.

Who Fliipped The Switch to the "ON" Position?

Fresh pastured country eggs laid by our happy hens that roam around on 3 acres are a blessing to us.  We love to eat 'em!  Each and every afternoon Benjamin goes out with his basket and gathers eggs in the hen house, the barn, the chicken tractor and numerous other hiding places like in the loft, behind the box fan, in the goat stall, in the trough in the goat barn, at the bottom of the burn pile...  Well, you get the picture.  The hens will lay eggs most anywhere.

Except, Benjamin's egg gathering was slim to none for a while.  On December 5, 2016 a hen laid ONE EGG (you read that right) and then none on the next day, or the next or the next.  Not a single egg in the month of January!  No eggs for the first two weeks of February.  Finally on February 17th he picked up one egg.  The number kept growing and growing and during the month of April, he is picking up about 5 dozen eggs a day.

When the hens weren't producing eggs, we hardly ate or cooked with eggs.  There is a HUGE difference between store-bought eggs and ours.  Now we have plenty eggs to scramble, fry, make quiche with, or cook with in any number of recipes.  We also have plenty to sell to our egg customers and plenty to give away to our family, our neighbors and our friends.  Friends don't let friends eat store-bought eggs!!

So, back to talking about finding hidden nests of eggs, we learned a test to determine the freshness of eggs.  If you take a bucket of water and drop the eggs found in a 'hidden nest,' the rotten ones will float, the old eggs will sink but stand up at the bottom of the bucket, and the fresh ones will lie flat on the bottom.  The rotten eggs get thrown back in the woods or composted in the garden.  The old or questionable eggs get fed to the dogs.  And obviously the fresh eggs get eaten by our family.

The hens are very healthy and fat right now and the yolks of their eggs are a deep yellow-orange color.  The eggs are just beautiful and tasty, too!  We don't wash them unless we absolutely need to. When the hens lay the eggs, they coat the eggs with a "bloom" that seals the eggs from bacteria and gives the eggs a longer shelf life. Once they are washed, their shelf life is shortened.  In the late fall and winter, the hens' production will taper off, but for right now, we are enjoying the eggs.

The incredible, edible egg.  I'm thankful that they are laying in abundance again.

2017 Meat Birds - By The Numbers

If you dare to be honest when looking in the mirror, you see change.  I'm seeing more grey hair and wrinkles.  I'm not fretting about it.  People change over time. Change is one of the constants in life. Everyday we change.  So do all creatures. Today we'll do a post-mortem analysis of our meat birds like we always do to look at change over their 9 week lifespan.  Less than 10 weeks from this cute little bird:

To this old fellow:

It is truly hard to believe that less than 10 weeks have passed between those two photos.  We look at the numbers to determine if we can adjust anything to make the management of the birds better, more efficient, or more economical.  Even though we've learned a lot over the many times we've done this, it is humbling because we learn things each and every year.  Some things you can control.  Some things are out of your control.  Some things you have to mess up on to discover not to do that again.  I seem to find new and creative ways to mess up every year, but that provides opportunities to learn.

Here's the breakdown:

Date of Receipt:           02/15/2017

Date of Slaughter:      04/22/2017

Days old at Slaughter:               68

Weeks old at Slaughter:          9.7
Number of Birds Slaughtered:  66

Purchased Birds:
We purchased 75 meat birds at a cost of $2.49 per bird with a purchase price of $187.00.  They actually sent us 84 birds, as they usually send a few extra chicks to make up for losses during shipping.

Supplies:

Propane                  $  10.00

Bulbs                        $  14.00

Chicken tractor       $  54.00 (we are amortizing the tractor over 3 years)

Ice                            $    6.00

Ziploc bags              $     6.00

Feed                        $ 351.00  (24 bags of feed)

Total Cost:              $628.00

Losses: We lost 18 birds this year, resulting in a 21.43% mortality rate.  That seems pretty bad, but we lost 13 of those on one evening, 3/29/2017, with heavy rains and wind.

Cost per bird:                       $9.52

Cost per pound:                   $2.12

Feed consumed per bird:    18.56 pounds

Feed cost per bird:               $5.32

Feed cost per pound:           $0.29  ($14.24 divided by 50 pound bag)

Total pounds Cornish Cross carcasses harvested:        $296.20

Average pound per bird (66 birds):                                      4.49 lbs   

In conclusion:

Our cost per bird is higher than in past years, but largely that is due to the $2.49 per chick purchase price.  In the past we were buying 4-H chicks at $0.40 per bird. The purchase price is the largest component in the increased bird cost.  Feed cost is actually down about $3 per 50 pound bag compared to prior years.  The feed consumed per bird is down from last year, but still higher than the 14.89 pounds of feed consumed per bird record in 2013.

One thing that skews the numbers a bit is that about a month ago we lost 13 birds during the rain storm that each weighed a little better than 3 pounds.  The numbers would look better with those birds in the equation.  Obviously, if your birds die, you want them to die young - before they eat a bunch of feed.

As we always say each and every year, at a cost of $9.52 per bird, we can't compete with the chicken sold at the grocery store.  However, it is not the same product.  Our birds were raised and slaughtered differently.  The quality of their short life was markedly different (better) from the factory birds.  No antibiotics, no medicines, no hormones.  They saw sunshine, walked on green grass, and felt the wind on their wings.  I like to think they taste better, too!

It would not do for the consumer to know that the hamburger she is eating came from a steer who spent much of his life standing deep in his own excrement in a feedlot, helping to pollute the local streams. Or that the calf that yielded the veal cutlet on her plate spent its life in a box in which it did not have room to turn around.  -Wendell Berry

Slowing Down and Taking Time To Observe

We lead such fast-paced lives as does most of 'modern' society.  There are always deadlines to meet, meetings to attend, and the constant stress of work takes its toll on your mind and soul.  We stay so busy that we often miss the beauty of God's creation.  It is right in front of us and in our haste to meet the next obligation, those beautiful things in nature are obscured.

I like to slow down in the evening or on the weekends and observe - really observe things around me that I might otherwise miss.  I captured a few things in photos below of things that jumped out at me.

7 “But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; 8 or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. 9 Which of all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? 10 In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind."  Job 12:7-10

This is some Rainbow Swiss Chard. The stems are bright red, dark maroon, hot pink, yellow and white.  As pretty as it is to look at, it is delicious and healthy to eat. I like planting it next to something green like kale for the contrast.  It lights up the garden like a neon sign!

Speaking of chard, while I was picking off some of the bottom leaves that were touching the ground and feeding to the cows, I observed a snail slowly making its way across the leaf.  Sometimes burdens of life may weigh us down, but at least we don't have to carry a big shell on our backs...

Back when I was farming in the early 2000's, I spotted a clump of Louisiana irises growing in the ditch in front of an old home site.  The ditch always had water in it and the irises were as happy as clams living there. The beauty of the flowers caught my eye and I got my shovel and scooped up a shovelful and brought home to plant in the ditch at our house.  Since then they have spread and spread.  The ditch at home is now filled with green foliage most of the year, but in the spring, they bloom with the most gorgeous flowers you've ever seen in your life!

What a beautiful flower!

As I was trellising our tomatoes in the garden using the Florida Weave technique, a dragonfly lit atop a t-post.  You could see right through his wings.  He was poised to take off and fly away quickly, but I caught him with my camera phone as it zoomed in on him.  It reminded me of a helicopter on an offshore helipad.

Finally. a lizard sat lazily sunning himself in a terra cotta pot   His body was green, but his eyes were a brilliant blue.

Each little flow’r that opens,

Each little bird that sings,

He made their glowing colors,

He made their tiny wings.

All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful:

The Lord God made them all.

- Cecil F. Alexander 1848

Butcher Day - April 22, 2017

At exactly 9 weeks and 3 days old, our crop of Cornish Cross Meat birds were ready for butchering.  On a random sampling at 9 weeks old, their average weight was roughly 6 pounds.  On Friday evening, I lifted the wheels on the chicken tractor and slowly rolled the birds near the butchering site.  It is easy to have them nearby on butcher day so that you don't have to go get birds out in the pasture, and we've found that it is easier to set up all the butchering stations up the night before.

We've done this post in previous years, but perhaps someone new is following that hasn't seen it.  If so, this is for you!  This is the chicken tractor that is serving as the holding area.

Station 1: The Killing Cones

These re-purposed traffic cones serve as the perfect killing cone while the birds bleed out.  The rubber cone holds the birds tight to minimize bruising through any thrashing about.  We position catch basins under each cone to capture blood for the garden.  The chicken is placed, head-first, in the cone and a quick slice to the neck with a sharp knife yields of steady stream of blood and the chicken's heart pumps out all the blood in a couple of minutes.

Station 2: The Scalding Station:

This station is simply a propane powered crawfish boiling pot in which the water is heated to 145 degrees Fahrenheit.  If you note on the pot, there is a thermometer, and we keep close tabs to ensure that the temperature doesn't deviate from 145 F. Any cooler and the feathers won't come off easily.  Any hotter and you risk cooking the bird.  We don't want to cook it - just scald it.

Station 3: Plucking 

With our nifty Whiz Bang Chicken Plucker (credit Herrick Kimball), we drop the scalded bird into the plucker, turn on the switch and spray the bird with water. With a whir and a spin, feathers begin being picked off the bird by rubber fingers. This device is a time saver!

Station 4: Evisceration Station

The bird, minus its feathers, are placed on a table where the head is pulled off and the feet are cut off.  Then the bird is gutted.  What's left is a perfectly beautiful carcass.

We cut all the gizzards in half and wash them up read good for bagging.  Tricia makes a dish called Gizzards and Rice that sounds awful, but tastes great.

Here are the livers of 66 birds, cleaned up, with the gall bladder carefully removed.  We like to cook chicken livers in butter in a case iron skilleet.

Finally, we cut the hearts in half and coax the congealed blood out of the hearts.  The hearts are washed and bagged.

Station 5: The Cooling Station:

Meat birds are hot birds.  They become even hotter after scalding.  It is important to cool them down.  Once the carcass is gutted and rinsed off, the birds go into cooling tanks while they go through rigor mortis.  We keep them covered by water and ensure that the water stays over all the carcasses as we don't want flies on the meat.

We add ice to the buckets and let them age for several hours.

Later in the afternoon, we cut up all the aged birds in an 8 piece cut up, place in a gallon-sized freezer bag and freeze.  We'll eat on these delicious birds all year long. Later this week, we'll do our annual comparison where we assess the average weight of the birds, how much feed they ate, mortality rate and other key metrics in comparison to prior years.

When The Water Is Runnin'

In years past, I've posted about picking dewberries out of the ditch right across the street from our house.  Now that that land is being developed, scavenging for food from the ditch is gone now out of the question.  Or is it?  Maybe for berries it is, but there are other edible plants and creatures out there waiting in the ditch!  Things like crawfish!

As a sidenote, about 15 years ago I was farming rice and crawfishing for a living. Those were good times and I may dig up some pictures and post about that at some point, but back to our story. One thing about crawfish is that when rains come and the water is running, the crawfish follow the water.  As a crawfisherman, I would hate to see all the crawfish leave my ponds, go into the ditches and swim away...

For passersby, though, it is like manna from the sky.  All you have to do is go pick it up.  That is exactly what Benjamin and his friends down the road did for several days during recent rains.  They would go out with nets and buckets and scoop up hundreds of pounds of crawfish.  A sack of crawfish is roughly 35 pounds.  One day they caught 5 sacks, the next day 3 sacks, and so on and so on.  They would boil them up and feast on them at each others' houses.  On the final night they came to our house.  Here's some of the catch all washed up and ready for boiling:

With plenty of seasoning added to the water, along with lemons, onions, potatoes, corn on the cob. garlic, and the live crawfish were poured into the water boiling atop a propane burner.  I love the smell of crawfish boiling!

In mere minutes, the crawfish were ready to eat.  Benjamin and all of his crawfishing buddies sat down around a table covered with newspaper and the spicy, hot crawfish were poured on top of the table.  Everyone began peeling and eating.  Those guys can eat some crawfish!  We were thinking that we would have to freeze some, but by the end of the evening, there was not a single crawfish remaining.

The dewberries in the ditch across the street may be gone.  However, after a rain when the water is running right, you can drive down country roads and find an abundance of crawfish to pick up, bring home, and boil.

Stretch Out Your Wings and Fly!

Yesterday I was in a large home improvement store for a meeting and I looked up and saw a male cardinal flying around frantically in the store.  The poor fellow undoubtedly flew in when one of the doors opened and now was hopelessly trapped, flying from aisle to aisle looking for a way out.  That's how I feel when I have to go shopping, too, except I can find my way out through the exit.  I don't know if the cardinal found his way out.

Last Sunday when we drove back into the garage from church, there was a bird in our garage.  With two large overhead doors, you'd think he'd be able to find his way out.  He couldn't.  He was fooled by those darned windows!  He kept flying into one and Benjamin and I went and scooped him up.  He was just fine.

It was a little dove - certainly a cute little guy. Just like the cardinal in the big box store, he was trapped and just needed a little help - help we were glad to give him. We admired him for a bit.  I think he is a mourning dove.  In the mornings or late afternoons, you can hear them with their haunting sounds.  This little dove was in mourning after running into the window in the garage numerous times.  He's okay now, though.  Benjamin took him out of the garage and gave him a gentle toss and he was up, up, and away...

He flew up into the pear tree...  And a partridge mourning dove in a pear tree...  And then he was gone.  Unlike the cardinal trapped in the store, this guy had his freedom.  He stretched out his wings and flew away and never looked back.

It reminded me of Noah and the dove he sent out that never came back.

Genesis 8:8-12 James Version (KJV)

8 Also he sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters were abated from off the face of the ground;

9 But the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot, and she returned unto him into the ark, for the waters were on the face of the whole earth: then he put forth his hand, and took her, and pulled her in unto him into the ark.

10 And he stayed yet other seven days; and again he sent forth the dove out of the ark;

11 And the dove came in to him in the evening; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth.

12 And he stayed yet other seven days; and sent forth the dove; which returned not again unto him any more.

Maybe there's a morale in the story about the cardinal and the mourning dove. There's life to be lived out there - life outside of the big box stores and cramped garages and even arks.  Freedom! Why, there are blue skies, fresh air, and trees adorned with leaves.  Sometimes you need a little help.  Sometimes you just need to stretch your wings out and fly.

2017 Meat Birds - 9 Weeks Old

Tonight is the final Wednesday night installment of the Magnificent Meat Bird Weigh-in as this Saturday, the birds will be slaughtered.  We'll be setting up the different stations for Butcher Day 2017 on Friday night so that on Saturday morning, we can wake up and get things started.  I'll have to remember to sharpen the knives and purchase ice on Friday.  Friday afternoon they will receive their last meal as we want their digestive tract empty.  It makes butchering a lot cleaner.

Let's see what the scale says tonight.  Like last Wednesday, I picked up two random roosters and the first hen I saw.  Remember we are shooting for a 6 pound bird as that yields a 4 1/2 pound carcass.

Rooster #1

He weighed 6 pounds 12 ounces...  He is well past the weight we were shooting for.

Rooster #2:

He weighed 7 pounds 3 ounces.  I don't think we've ever had birds that broke the seven pound barrier before we butchered them.

The Hen:

While not exactly light, she felt  a good bit smaller when picking her up to place her on the scale.

She weighed 5 pounds 1 ounce.

So the roosters average about 7 pounds and the three birds together average about 6 pounds

Here are the results from Week 9:
*Week 9 2017:  6 pounds
*Week 9 2016:  6 pounds 5 ounces
*Week 9 2015:  5 pounds 1 ounces

To summarize, last week they weighed on average 5 pounds 2 ounces and this week 6 pounds. That means they gained almost a pound over the last week.   They are 5 ounces shy of where they were at this age last year, and about a pound heavier than what the 2015 birds weighed at this age.

They are ready for processing as they have hit our target weight.  Once we've butchered, we'll tally up all the detailed information that we always provide and will compare with previous years.

Potatoes

I read a couple of interesting things about potatoes tonight.  First, potatoes are not mentioned in the Bible.  No french fries.  No baked potatoes.  Certainly no potato chips.  They say it is because potatoes are a New World thing.  Sir Walter Raleigh is credited with bringing potatoes (and tobacco) back to England with him after returning.  Others say that the Spanish beat him to the punch with both potatoes and tobacco.

We'll have potatoes in less than a month now.  The weather has been perfect for spuds with just the right amount of rain.  I planted potatoes on the high side of the garden and that helps, too.  A few years ago, we caught some untimely rains that caused many of the potatoes to rot in the ground. By the looks of it, we should have a bumper crop.  Benjamin was asking me when they would be ready to dig this evening.  He always likes digging them up.  They are like buried treasure.

We planted five rows in soil heavily amended with rotten leaves and composted chicken litter.  They were mulched with live oak leaves chopped up by the lawnmower.  That serves as a good barrier to keep weed growth down.  It also preserves soil moisture and a haven for earthworms.  Next year it will be part of the soil.

Potatoes are very commonplace and not much to look at, but I think the potato blossom is stunning.  and regal-looking.  Potato plants bloom toward the end of the growing season and that signals me to assemble my potato-digging crew.

It is said that the average American eats 126 pounds of potatoes each year.  That is a lot of potatoes!  It sounds like a lot at least.  I looked at the blog post from the 2016 harvest and read that we dug up 144 pounds of potatoes last year.  We'll weigh them again this year to see if we can beat that record.  This is a new variety of potato we're growing this year, so we'll have to wait to see if the yield is similar to last year.  Lâche pas la patate in Cajun French means "Don't drop the potato." I've heard it said to mean "Don't give up easily" or "Don't let go."  We're not going to give up and we won't let go...  At least until all the potatoes are dug up!

A Long Row To Hoe

The weather has been outstanding.  It was high time to get a little work done in the corn patch in the side yard.  This past fall it was planted in pumpkins (that the August rains obliterated) and purple hull peas which produced nicely for weeks. Now it is time to rotate the land back into sweet corn.  Prior to starting work, I poured myself a quart jar full of sweet tea and sat down on a bench in the shade with a file and my garden hoe and put I nice, sharp edge on the hoe.  Now we're ready to do some work.

First I mowed the corn patch down close to the ground.  In past years I would have turned the entire area over with a shovel, but I'm doing something different this year and will only work it minimally.  I've amended the soil with plenty of composted leaves and cow manure for the past several years and while the surrounding land is hard and compacted, the soil in the corn patch is soft and easily-worked with a hoe.

Working with a hoe and only turning the top few inches of ground is easier than turning it over with a shovel and also doesn't disturb the soil.  While it is not exactly "no-till," I think it is the best of both worlds, working up a nice seed bed while preserving the soil structure and worm tunnels that aerate the soil.  Here I am just getting started...

It was a long row to hoe, but I got it done.  I had to refill my jar of sweet tea a time or two.

Once all the ground was worked, I used a garden rake to level out the seed bed and pull all of the dirt clods out of the way.  There wasn't much weeds to speak of, so I didn't need to weed.

My planting crew, consisting of Benjamin and myself, got busy planting since the sun was racing toward the horizon.  This year, I'm planting Stowell's Evergreen Sweet Corn and Country Gentleman Sweet Corn - two varieties I plant every year. But I'm adding a new variety to the mix this year - Dorinny Sweet Corn.  I've marked out a test plot of the new variety and we'll see how it does in comparison to the others.

At the supper table tonight, we were discussing what our favorite crops were from the spring garden and what we are looking forward to.  I was just commenting to Tricia tonight that one of my favorite summertime meals that she makes is homemade pizza with fresh-picked tomatoes, basil, and sweet corn on top.  We have a ways to go, though, before we even think about harvesting.  The corn has sprouted and is about four inches tall.  It is a little yellow, so I think I'll spray it with some fish emulsion and top-dress it with some composted chicken litter I get out of the hen house.  With the corn planted in the side yard corn patch, we'll shift focus to getting everything planted in the garden.

Happy Resurrection Sunday!

1 After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. 2 There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. 4 The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. 5 The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. 6 He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.” 8 So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”  Matthew 28:1-10

Image Credit

Christ Is Risen!

2017 Meat Birds - 8 Weeks Old

If you've followed our blog posting about raising our meat birds, you'll know that we shoot for butchering a 6 pound bird as that yields a 4 and 1/2 pound carcass. We've found that to be the ideal size for our family.  Our goal has always been to butcher them at 8 weeks old.  More often than not, we have missed on that goal and normally butcher the birds somewhere between 9 and 10 weeks. We've missed the 8 week butchering goal for varying reasons.  Sometimes the birds were sick at some point or the effects of rainy, cold weather that kept them from gaining weight. Other times a cold snap stunted their growth as they expended calories generating heat versus growth.

That's why chronicling the weights by week over the years is helpful.  It is a good barometer of where we are in comparison to the previous week and/or previous years.

Well, let's get right to it.  I wanted to do something a little different this week.  The cockerels always grow faster and are bigger than the pullets.  Each week I've weighed a rooster.  Not the same rooster, unfortunately, but one that I though was 'average' in size.  Next year, I'll find a way to mark a bird so I can weigh the same one.  So, this week I wanted to weigh a rooster and a hen.  It was getting dark and I reached into the chicken tractor and pulled out the first two birds I could touch.

Rooster #1
So this old boy was heavy.  He was lazy, too.  He sat atop the scale, fat and happy at 8 weeks old.

Let's see what the scale says...  Whoa!  Six pounds!!  Old boy is ready to be processed.

So let's check on the weight of a hen.  Except the second bird I picked up was another rooster!

Rooster #2

Same song, second verse.  This bird lounged on the scale as well, but I could tell that he wasn't as heavy as the first one.

He weighed 5 pounds 3 ounces.  So he was 13 ounces lighter than the first rooster. That is quite a difference for birds that are the same sex and the same exact age. What accounts for the difference?  Genetics?  One is a bully and gets more feed? One was sick at one point in his 8 week life?  I just don't know.

So I walked back out to the chicken tractor and intentionally looked around for a hen and brought her back to the scale in the garage.

Hen 1:

She was even lighter than the second bird, but that is to be expected.  Hens are lighter than roosters.

She weighed 4 pounds 3 ounces.  So we can gather that the hens are at least a pound lighter than the roosters.  Interesting information.

So what can we glean from this data?

Well, I think the thing to do is to average the weights of the three birds.  I come up with a little over 5 pounds.  I think that gives a better indication of where we are.

Here are the results from Week 8:
*Week 8 2017:  5 pounds 2 ounce
*Week 8 2016:  6 pounds 3 ounces
*Week 8 2015:  4 pounds 2 ounces

To summarize, last week they weighed on average 4 pounds 1 ounce and this week 5 pounds 2 ounces. That means they gained over a pound over the last week.   They are still 1 pound 1 ounce shy of where they were at this age last year, and a pound heavier than what the 2015 birds weighed at this age.

Since this weekend is Good Friday and then Resurrection Sunday, I think we'll be butchering NEXT Saturday.  That will give the birds another week to grow.  That will give the hens a good chance of weighing more than 5 pounds.  The big roosters may break the 7 pound barrier.  We'll see what happens!  Bottomline is, these birds have a week and a half left to go.