Backyard Farmer Merit Badge

Wondering who I am? I’m Merit Badge Awardee Jane (MBA Jane for short). In my former life

Well, my little chickadees, I’m moving on to successful Farmgirl in a speedy fashion! I’ve done it: I’m an animal owner (Ms. Twinkles doesn’t count, she thinks she’s a person and I hate to dash her hopes and dreams of world domination by telling her she’s a Pomeranian).

I brought home three of the cutest, spunkiest, most adorable baby chicks EVAH!

Now the requirements for my newest badge, Backyard Farmer, are a no-brainer.


Chickens with their eggs or raise your own rabbits for butchering?? I think not. I can’t kill Flopsie, Mopsie, and Cottontail! But I can go to the farm store and buy some Yellow Sextons and Black Sex Links. After I stop giggling at the breed names, that is. Farmers have their minds in the gutters, I do believe …

Anyhow, these tiny balls of feathered fluff are super delightful. I put them in a big Rubbermaid container that I bought to organize my purse collection but never got around to, hung a heat lamp over the top (Can you believe they like it 95 degrees the first week? Some like it hot indeed), and we were good to go. Instant family. Single mom of three, that’s me.

They think their water container is their own personal swimming pool, so I find myself changing their water like, four trillion times a day. They also poop in it about nine trillion times a day, but let’s not go there. I’ve heard poop is a side effect of parenting, but boy, I had no idea. I don’t even want to think about Midge and the triplets … let’s just say she went MIA when they were potty training and now I know why.

Their diet at the moment consists of cracked corn and grain that I sprinkle lovingly to them by the handfuls. I feel just like Cinderella. I keep waiting for well-dressed mice to come out and let me sing to them in exchange for a hand-sewn ball gown, but no dice. Anyway, after they get big enough to move out of the garage and to the yard, they’ll move on to the REAL chicken food: bugs and grass. I’m actually a little excited about the decrease of spiders to come. Last time I found a brown recluse during a dinner party, Ken screamed like a little girl and seriously made me rethink my relationship status.

In order to get ready for the big move out of the Rubbermaid, I bought a chicken coop from someone on craigslist. It’s a little … well, musty and muddy, and old. So, I’m wallpapering. You know, to get that French provincial countryside look. Wish me luck. Those are some way small cubbies but never let it be said that I’m a quitter. I figure they need some beautiful surroundings in order to lay beautiful eggs.

Gracious, I wouldn’t be surprised if the eggs come out paisley, toile, and polka dot at this point! I can just see me at the farmers’ market, the belle of the ball …

Now to find those talented rodents to dress me …

  1. Debra Davis says:

    MBA Jane,
    I look forward to your posts with glee. You bring such attitude and can-do spirit to your adventures, and no one can tell stories quite like you do.

    Maybe you could name the chickens Paisley, Toile, and Polka Dot when they get big enough to tell apart.

    Best wishes for your poultry.


    PS–What did you decide to do about Ken???

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