Leaves fell as gusts of wind blew through the valley and carried away the lingering heat. Coastal dew dampened the grass before dawn as the first hint of Autumn awoke with the morning. The clouds hung low and the coyotes yipped their confidence in the shadows of dense tree cover.
Our idiot sheep showed no signs of fear as they pranced around in the cool marine breeze that smelled of fresh rain and salt. The laying flock even more brazen as they crossed property boundaries to investigate new pasture.  I served a breakfast of baked apples and eggs that were both collected the day before and poured Sweet Little Miss Q a cup of milk whilst dreaming about the pros and cons of owning a dairy animal.
This beautiful morning I glared outside at our meat birds that were eating us out of house and home.  Earlier this summer our first round of market chickens were processed by a licensed facility in the Willamette Valley.  It was the first time we have ever hired out the processing and were uncertain of the total costs when we originally quoted price per pound to our customers. The finished product was absolutely beautiful- vacuum packed, perfectly plucked, stunning whole chickens that we could legally sell to private consumers, restaurants or stores. Only problem: the finished product resulted in zero profit.

       {Good looking processed bird}

We had lost money and Hubby Dearest was less than thrilled. Indignant at the high costs of certified non-GMO whole grain feed, the processing fees for that perfectly plucked poultry, and my insistence that this was a good idea, he demanded a return of our investment. I have promised that next round of pastured poultry will be better, with the baseline goal of not losing money. Easier said than done.
Just the other day I made a trip over the Coast Range to the whole grain mill where we buy our GMO – free feed. About 200 miles later I was home with a mom – car full of feed bags, excited to eat lunch before I unloaded. However, a few minutes for lunch turned into a few days of procrastination and as Hubby Dearest opened the back of the car to open a bag he saw the feed tag that I hadn’t bothered to check: senior horse.  Going through each bag we saw a number of senior horse and other labels, none of which were the poultry grower that we needed and were for animals we don’t even have.  For some reason the hubs was was less than thrilled as he re-loaded 50 lb bags of senior horse pellets. His temper grew and I saw our potential “profit” margin dwindling as I planned to return the bags and get the chicken feed I required. I stuck my foot in my mouth when I mentioned that throwing those bags around was at least a great work out…and for some reason Hubby Dearest didn’t quite see it that way.
So as summer draws to an end and our second round of meat birds mature into the full rounded figures of succulent chickens, I hope we have a few buyers! In the meantime I will harvest the abundant fruits and veggies in the family garden, sell off the remaining  shares of our larger livestock and hope that Hubby Dearest sees the intrinsic value of raising quality meats and eggs for our family and community.

            {Waiting for breakfast}