Somewhere along the line between deciding to get some heritage turkey chicks for my 100-Metre Thanksgiving Meal in the fall, I ended up instead with three dozen hatching eggs.
If they were turkey eggs it would make sense, but they’re not. They’re chicken eggs. Heritage chicken eggs mind you, but chicken eggs nonetheless.
My mind is still trying to connect the dots but to the best of my recollection it went something like this. After discovering a fantastic source for all kinds of heritage turkey chicks I set about filling out my order form. I only needed half a dozen at most — three for the freezer and three for future reproduction — but when shipping chicks you have to order at least two dozen so they can keep each other warm along the way. Twenty-four turkeys are a lot for two people, especially when one of them is a vegetarian and the other is still refusing to chop off so much as a single turkey’s head. But then I discovered that they sold Chantecler chicks!
Chantecler are the only “made in Canada” chicken and were once thought to be extinct, but thanks to small flocks sprinkled across our great land, the breed is slowly starting to make a comeback. As you might expect from a Great Northern bird, they are designed to withstand winter weather and to keep laying eggs straight through the coldest months. So along with six Narragansett turkey chicks I added a dozen Chanteclers to the order.
I noticed they also sold Ameraucana. They’re the ones who lay the green and blue eggs. Now I ask you, who wouldn’t want to gather blue and green eggs every morning? I put down half a dozen Ameraucana to arrive at the grand total of two dozen chicks and quickly placed my order before I could change my mind.
The next day an email arrived informing me that not only were they were sold out of Chanteclers for the season, but since we lived so far away the chicks would have to be sent by plane which meant we had to order a minimum of 50 chicks to make it worth their while.
I should have just moved on to finding another source for turkeys, but suddenly I was like the kid who never realized how badly he wanted a Tickle Me Elmo doll until there were none to be had. I forgot all about the thanksgiving turkeys. If I couldn’t get Chantecler chicks then I didn’t want any chicks at all.
After two days of furious internet searching and emailing I managed to score both Ameraucana and Chantecler hatching eggs. I already had an old incubator in the storage shed just waiting to embrace a clutch of eggs. I could scarcely believe my good fortune. Neither could Darcy.
“Chicken eggs? I thought we weren’t going to get any chickens.”
“Who said that?”
“You did. You said we don’t use enough eggs to make it worthwhile.”
“But the Ameraucana lay blue and
green eggs. And the Chantecler are Canadian and they’re on the endangered list.” I explained. Honestly. Sometimes men can be so obtuse.
“What about the turkeys?”
“I’m still looking.”
“You wouldn’t be having second thoughts about chopping off their heads or anything, would you?” Darcy had “I told you so” wrote all over him.
“Of course not,” I snapped. Truth was I was starting to have all kinds of second thoughts. Visions of trying to run down the poor turkey with my Jeep — taking great care not to damage the breast meat — just to distance myself from the murder had been flashing through my mind. But what was Darcy was saying now?
“Oh well, if you can’t get any turkeys we could always have roasted chicken instead. I imagine you’ll end up with lots of extra roosters when the eggs hatch.”
In my usual fashion I had been filling my mind with pleasant images of hatching out two or three show quality roosters and all the rest of the eggs holding hens, but of course Darcy was right. I could even end up with nothing but roosters.
Three dozen roosters! That would almost be as bad as 50 turkeys. You know what the biggest problem is with the simple life? It’s rarely simple.
Shannon McKinnon is a humour columnist from the Peace River country. You can read past columns at www.shannonmckinnon.com