Turkeys aren't chickens: Presentation on raising turkeys coming up

 Midget White hen with newly-hatched turks.

This weekend, I'm farm-sitting for my sister in Poulsbo, about an hour's drive from our place. While the change of scene (and routine) is oddly vacation-like, it's definitely a working weekend: I'm making final preparations for a 45-minute presentation on raising turkeys.

Mark your calendars: The Mother Earth News Fair is June 4-5, at the Puyallup Fairgrounds south of Seattle. I will be speaking at the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy's stage on both days of the Fair. If you live around here, or will be in the area that weekend, please try to come. The list of presenters, speakers and exhibitors is truly impressive; check the Mother Earth News web site for topics, schedules and maps.

My presentation will be an overview of raising turkeys, starting with basic questions. For example, I think it's important to ask yourself why you want to raise them. (You'd be surprised how few people think about this before they bring the cute little day-olds home.) If you think you're going to save money on your holiday bird by raising one yourself, frankly, you probably won't. Turkeys also have different nutritional needs than chickens; they are bigger birds, so housing can be an issue; should they be kept in pens or is it best to free-range? How much time and money, realistically, do you have to put into raising turkeys?

These are just a few of the questions that I will be addressing at the Fair. Some we thought of before we got our first turkeys, others we learned through experience that we should have asked questions sooner.

We love our turkeys, and truly enjoy their often quirky behavior and mannerisms. If you're even a little bit interested in raising turkeys, I'd love to see you at the Mother Earth News Fair. It promises to be a weekend of learning opportunities for anyone seeking ways to live more sustainably. Do plan to come if you can!

Pot Pies and Egg Money Premise #4: Have some fun!

In case you were wondering, these PPEM Premises are not being shared in any particular order. From our point of view, they are all of equal importance, since as a group, they summarize our perspective on both farming and life (not that you can separate the two). I'm generally just writing about whatever happens to come to my mind at blog update time.

So, back to Premise #4. It's quite simple, actually: Have fun! Yes, that's right, HAVE FUN. The underlying goal of all that we are doing here is to create a life, and a farm system, that are sustainable, after all. And frankly, if it's not fun at least some of the time, who would want to keep doing it? If your initial reaction to this is to ask why one should have to consciously plan to have fun, read back over some of my earlier posts. It's not just that we're busy; who isn't these days? Our experience has been that it is too easy to get in a rut of just getting through today and hoping for some rest before getting up again at first light tomorrow. So we make a point of finding ways to bring some fun to the party.

Having fun isn't confined to off-work hours.The first year we had chickens, for example, we started a tradition of Happy Hour with the Chickens. During that summer, we had a couple of lawn chairs in the chicken yard, and we would take drinks and some kind of treat for the birds and sit down there among them for awhile before we tucked them in for the night. It was lovely to relax for an hour or so and enjoy the Chicken Channel. Some of the bolder birds would jump up on our laps, depending on how yummy they judged that day's treats. They seem to be partial to things like organic ginger snaps.

It also makes a difference, to me at least, to vary details of the routine chores. Even reversing the order in which I make the rounds to pick up eggs seems to make it more fun. I have no idea why, but who cares? And it's not as if these chores ever feel particularly tedious anyway; between indoor and outdoor tasks, I find I get plenty of variety on any given day, provided I put some effort into planning my schedule.

Of course, there are plenty of ways to have fun outside the work day. It's good to have non-farm-related hobbies and interests, and getting involved in your community usually offers many choices for you social butterflies. We like to watch movies, and we eat out fairly often at the Alder Wood Bistro, among other diversions.

I could go on (and as you know, I usually do), but I will leave it there, in the hope that you will use your imagination and start thinking up your own ways to regularly add fun to your life. What could be more fun than going to bed each night actually looking forward to getting up the next day and doing it all again?

Finally, turkey eggs are being incubated; hooray for surrogate moms!

Cochin banty hen with 1-day-old Midget White turk.

This year, for some reason our Midget White turkeys started laying eggs about a month later than usual, around mid-March. After losing two of our four breeding hens recently, we have been keeping close tabs on the surviving two and collecting their eggs. At this point, we have three broody chickens sitting on turkey eggs, and we just put one of the turkey hens on a clutch. We're still getting an egg almost every day from the remaining turkey hen, so we will save them up for a few days and then put her in a turkey brooder with her own clutch.

One of the many things we've learned in the course of breeding birds is that hatching eggs are dormant for about 6 days. This allows the hen to accumulate a clutch of eggs (since she doesn't lay more than one egg per day) before the actual incubation begins. Without this period of dormancy, the eggs would all hatch on different days. Our Midget White hens typically incubate between 12 and 18 eggs at a time, so obviously having them all hatch more or less on the same day is a good thing! There are sometimes late arrivals among the hatchlings, which may get left behind if the hen and other babies have already left the nest.

Cochin banty hen with Midget White turks.

One of our broody hens is a Cochin banty. The poor thing, all she wants to do in life is incubate eggs and raise babies. Because of her banty-esque size, she can only comfortably incubate 4 or 5 turkey eggs at a time, but I feel sorry for her when she's this broody, so I have her sitting on 4 of them. She successfully hatched and raised baby turks last year, too (see photo above).

Of course, in years when we've had more Midget White hens than we do right now, they have done a great job. They readily go broody, lay and incubate plenty of eggs, and are attentive and protective mothers.

 Midget White hen with some of her brood. 

Speaking of surrogate mothers, we have discovered that one of the hazards of letting all the birds free-range is that they sometimes lay eggs in some other bird's nest. Usually, when a hen is incubating a clutch of eggs, she hops off the nest for a few minutes every day, at least long enough to eat and drink something. (They also like to poop away from the nest.) Last year a Blue Swedish duck hatched 2 chicks; this was a little tricky because she was also incubating duck eggs, which incubate for 28 days (chicken eggs incubate for only 21). Fortunately, there was a broody hen available who happily adopted the orphans. Naturally, we called them Donald and Daisy.

Then there was the time when a Midget White turkey hatched and raised a chicken...

Midget White turkey with Barred Rock pullet she hatched and raised.

It's not always easy managing all these birds during breeding season, but we're learning every year and getting better at it. It's nice to know that so many of the hens don't mind sharing the mothering duties; it makes our lives easier, and sure makes for some interesting photos!

Pot Pies and Egg Money Premise #3: Challenge the "get big or get out" myth

I was asked recently if it's possible to actually make any money raising poultry. My somewhat facetious response was that we'd find out after my book about heritage poultry is published.

Seriously, though, the query did get me thinking at a deeper level about what it is that we're doing here. Are we trying to make a living or make a life? Be more self-sufficient or more involved in our community? Indulge a hobby or create a lifestyle that reflects our values, our spirituality, our world view, even our politics? I am quickly coming to the intriguing conclusion that to one degree or another, it's all of these things.

Those of you who know me are aware of my love for the "what if" questions. Here's one to consider: What if the "get big or get out" idea of farming is simply wrong?

"Small" farmers, you know what I'm talking about. Supposedly wiser minds than ours want us to believe that short of buying up more and more acreage to raise the same crop (read "commodity") year after year, it's just not possible to make a living in today's farming world; hence, "get big or get out". Never mind the costs: the depletion of soil elements critical to its long-term health; the need for more and more chemicals over time; the financial stress of increasing debt and uncertainty. Funny thing, the marketing gurus behind such ideas don't mention the costs; perhaps they aren't aware of them, or maybe they just don't care. After all, they're in marketing, not farming.

Here's another question: Should we believe that "get big or get out" are really the only choices? To me, this mantra implies that at the end of the day, what's important is the profit margin. In other words, the bottom line is business. I think it's time to consider the possibility that growing or producing something to sell is actually not the only way to define sustainable farming. Granted, by definition, farming can't be "sustainable" if the farm habitually loses money. But there's more than one way to "make" money. For example, suppose that instead of earning more money by selling more crops, we save more money by growing more of our own food?

My mother once said to me that there is a unique sense of empowerment in providing even a small proportion of your own food. It seems to me that the trend of "eating local", coinciding as it has with our national economic downturn, is a perfect opportunity (and should be the motivation) for us all to do just that. It doesn't get much more local than growing your own. Also, considering that most of our food is transported quite some distance to get to us (see "Pot Pies and Egg Money Premise #2"), it's clear that saving significantly on our food costs is a real possibility. And of course, we benefit from the freshness, great taste and nutrition of food grown seasonally in our gardens.

I guess what I'm suggesting is that we all take a thoughtful look at our lifestyles, the things that we value, our true priorities. Suppose we pass on to our children the joy and deep satisfaction of planting a seed, then nurturing and harvesting a crop? Suppose we re-define our financial lives by choosing to live debt-free? Suppose we start thinking in terms of the legacy of our choices, instead of just today's bottom line? Small farmers, backyard gardeners and city dwellers, take heart: Saving money and providing for yourself and your family are not just possible, they're great choices.

Think small; simplify. Buy local, sell local, grow your own. How's that for a legacy?

Two turkey hens lost to a cougar this week

Just a brief digression from my summary of the Premises of Pot Pies and Egg Money: This week we lost two of our four Midget White turkey hens to a cougar. The turkeys like to go a little ways out of the yard and lay their eggs in the thick stand of salal near the edge of the woods. For the past two years, they've always laid their eggs in one of two spots; this, along with their bright white coloring, made it easy to find them, and their eggs.

This year, things have changed. First, the hens have found three entirely new places to make their nests. We've finally located all of them, after literally hours of looking, but unfortunately in two cases, a cougar found the nests before we did. The pile of white feathers in the nest and the trail of more feathers leading to the edge of the canyon and down the steep slope make it clear what happened. (Although this is a smaller-sized turkey, even the hens are too large to be bothered by bobcats; even young cougars are much larger than bobcats.)

As distressing as it is to lose the hens, what added insult to injury was finding the remains of broken turkey eggs in the nests. We were hoping to find intact eggs that could be hatched under a broody hen . We've been keeping a close eye on the remaining hens, and collecting their eggs as quickly as possible. We've got only 7 so far. I'm going to set up one of the broody coops this afternoon and relocate a very broody chicken there to incubate the turkey eggs. The Midget White hens are very good broodies and mothers; however, since we only have two left, we want them to keep laying eggs for as long as possible (they quit laying once they go broody), so we'll use chickens to hatch the turkey eggs for now.

It's a bit disconcerting to think that an animal the size of a cougar (males can weigh up to 275 lbs) is coming so close during the day; the nests are all within less than 100 feet of the house. We've put up some temporary fencing in the area where the turkeys are nesting, and all has been quiet for the past couple of days. At this point, we're not even thinking about Thanksgiving; we're concerned about replenishing our breeding flock.

Pot Pies and Egg Money Premise #2: Shorten the food chain

We've all heard a lot in recent years about "eating locally"; that is, trying to be more aware of exactly where our food is coming from and choosing to buy locally-produced ingredients for our meals whenever possible. More and more restaurants, such as the Alder Wood Bistro here in Sequim, are getting behind this idea as well. More consumers are also realizing the benefits of buying locally-grown produce and meat, even visiting farms and buying directly from the producer.

What are these benefits? Well, obviously when you can buy directly from a farmer, the food is sure to be fresh. Also, locally-grown food, especially produce, is usually bought in season, which translates not only into better quality and flavor, but also lower prices: Produce bought out-of-season usually comes from another state or even another country, and you can be sure the cost of all that transportation is being passed on to you. In addition, if you've ever visited a local farm and bought directly from a farmer, you will have realized the difference it makes in the way you relate to what you eat. So much of our culture of eating involves relationships, and buying locally-produced food promotes beneficial relationships, not just with an individual producer, but with the community at large. Which brings up yet another benefit: keeping our money in the local economy.

What's happening here is we are shortening the food chain, the often lengthy and convoluted path food travels to become part of our next meal. Between the lines of the benefits outlined above are the less obvious costs, to us as consumers, and to our environment (and even our society) as well. A few statistics: On average, 7-10 calories of fossil fuel energy are used in the process of delivering 1 calorie of food energy to your plate. 20% of the total energy used in food production is consumed on the farm; the rest is spent processing the food and moving it around. (Growing organically uses about 1/3 less fossil fuel than growing conventionally, but that savings quickly disappears if compost is not produced either on-site or nearby.)

By contrast, buying even part of the food we eat can make a big difference in the true cost of feeding ourselves. For example, if you buy a holiday turkey from us, the food chain is very short: We grow the turkey and slaughter it, and you pick it up within a day or so of slaughter. It isn't even frozen. Some customers have come up to help on slaughtering days, adding another level to their participation in their personal food chain.

Restaurants like the Alder Wood Bistro, whose owners Gabriel and Jessica Schuenemann are also helping to set a new standard in our community. They are committed to sourcing locally as much as possible of the food they serve, which is great for small farms like ours. They buy organic eggs from us, which are delivered several times a week, so the chain, once again, is short: From farm to restaurant to consumer's plate, the eggs have traveled less than 8 miles. (By way of contrast, any given ingredient in a typical American meal has traveled an average of 1,500 miles by the time it shows up on your plate.)

Our farm is small. We don't have the room to sustainably produce more pork or poultry than we do now, since we are unwilling to compromise our standards of allowing the birds to range freely during the day. It has occurred to us lately that for a production level like ours, our relationship with the Alder Wood Bistro actually is a model for how small farms can be successful. So much of our national food production (and yes, even organic food production) is done on a huge scale, at a huge cost on a number of levels, many of which are kept out of sight. What if more small producers sought out relationships with local restaurants, or even small community grocery stores to help supply the growing number of consumers enthusiastically seeking to connect with these producers?

After all, for consumers to buy locally-produced food, someone has to sell it. Bypassing a number of links in the traditional American food chain by selling either directly to the consumer from the farm, or through a forward-thinking restaurant just down the hill, has become a crucial piece of the big picture for us. It's also an important part of the concept of Pot Pies and Egg Money.

Pot Pies and Egg Money Premise #1: Purebred animals are more sustainable

As the first draft of my book "Pot Pies and Egg Money: The rewards of living sustainably with heritage-breed poultry" is nearing completion, I thought it would be a good time to summarize the concept of it. I have realized, in the process of researching and writing, that Pot Pies and Egg Money is a genuine reflection of our values and the kind of lifestyle we choose and strive to achieve. In fact, unlike most current books about poultry, it is less a "how-to" than a "why-to" kind of book. Throughout the book I have endeavored to share the steps we have taken (and the reasons for our choices) in our progress toward a more sustainable way of life.

What does "sustainable" mean? I have lately been reading Michael Pollan's "The Omnivore's Dilemma" (Penguin Books, 2006), and I agree with his view that the term has in recent years been overused to the point where, for many people, it has little meaning. He also suggests that anything unsustainable "sooner or later must collapse". For us, so far at least, "sustainable" has the most relevance in regard to our animals.

As most of you know, we grow heritage-breed chickens, turkeys and ducks, along with a couple of pigs for part of the year. The chickens and ducks are mainly kept for eggs; we keep a small breeding group of turkeys and raise about 20 every year to slaughter. The pigs, while grown for meat, also provide a valuable service by plowing up previously unused fields and eating the roots, allowing us to re-seed with grasses and clovers to create better pasture. Choosing the breeds we raise involved a lot of research and a conscious decision to keep only purebreds, also known as "heritage" breeds. From all we've read and heard, as well as learned from our own experience, it is clear to us that purebred livestock is the choice when the aim is sustainability.

For example, you may remember from a previous post that the Broad-Breasted turkey (a commercial hybrid) cannot mate naturally; it must be artificially inseminated. (Incidentally, you wouldn't be able to buy turkeys year-round if this weren't the case; purebred turkeys normally lay eggs only 4 or 5 months of the year.) Cornish Cross chickens, the ubiquitous grocery-store bird, has been bred to reach an impressive broiler size in 7 weeks or less. Obviously, these chickens are being slaughtered long before the normal breeding age of around 18-22 weeks (depending on variety). However, their warp-speed growth comes at a high cost: leg problems and sudden death from cardiac arrest are not uncommon.

I have no problem with those who are trying to make money in the poultry business and have found that they must raise these fast-growing hybrids in order to stay afloat financially. After all, in a sense, no business is sustainable in the long run if it loses money. Also, we don't raise chickens for meat (although we do occasionally slaughter a few roosters when we have too many of them), so perhaps my view doesn't seem to carry much weight. What I've said in the previous paragraph, however, are known facts, not just my opinion. That said, I hope you don't hear any judgment there; I assure you I feel none.

Aside from reproductive issues, another reason we prefer purebreds is the variety of instinctive behaviors that contribute to the long-term health of the farm. For example, one of my criteria for choosing a chicken or turkey breed is foraging ability. All our birds free-range during the day, and we expect them to do some of the work of feeding themselves. (Statistics suggest that foraging can account for up to 30% of a chicken's daily feed, but the numbers give no data as to which breeds were sampled.) Our observation has been that the birds spend a few minutes eating grain first thing in the morning, then head off to happily scratch and peck until it's time to head back in at night. In the wintertime especially, we make sure they get a little extra grain before bedtime, as a little boost in carbohydrates helps keep them warm through the long, cold nights.

Our Midget White turkeys also are excellent foragers. I noticed the first year we had them that they did a great job of cleaning up the windfall apples near the house, which kept the deer from coming into the yard. The ducks love to dabble in the freshly-plowed fields after we move the pigs to another paddock; they break up the manure piles and eat the larvae of intestinal worms, thereby interrupting the cycle of  parasites and disease. The pigs have thankfully retained their instinctive rooting behavior; they not only find a good portion of their own food, the rooting is also a super-efficient way to rid the land of the roots of weeds and other unwanted plants. The chickens and turkeys then follow the ducks, picking out leftover weed seeds and worms. This progression, by the way, also closely imitates nature; for example, woodland birds break up bear manure, in the process spreading around seeds from the berries the bears eat in large quantities in the summer.

We are still learning a lot about how to fully utilize purebred livestock on our farm, but we have already seen a little of the value of diversifying, step by slow step. In the next few posts, I will go into more detail about the other facets of sustainable agriculture and how we are working toward our goals. This is all just a teaser, of course; Pot Pies and Egg Money will give you the rest of the story.