by Kelly Jones
I told my chickens that even though I’ve known Lupe way longer than I’ve known them, they shouldn’t be jealous. I said they should be nice to her when they meet her, because after all, Lupe doesn’t have superpowers like they do. She’s more like me: just a regular hardworking person.
I haven’t decided how much to tell Lupe about my chickens. They’re the coolest thing about this farm, so of course she has to meet them. But Lupe doesn’t really love Star Wars like I do. I’m not sure what she’ll think of a chicken that can use the Force.
Maybe after she gets used to them.
Te quiero,
Soficita
PS I guess opposable thumbs would seem like a great superpower to chickens, since they don’t even have hands. And Chameleon’s superpower wouldn’t seem that cool to a real chameleon. Maybe whether something is super or regular is more about how you look at it.
Date: Monday, August 4
To: Sophie Brown
From: Hortensia James
Subject: RE: RE: RE: New chickens
Dear Sophie,
Sorry, I didn’t see your email until after I’d shipped nine eggs to you. Your eggs will arrive tomorrow, so you’d better alert your postal carrier at once, and find that incubator. You absolutely must not keep chicks in with adult chickens, so make sure you have a new area ready for them after they hatch.
Sincerely,
Hortensia
Monday, August 4
Jim Brown
Heaven’s Ultimate Chicken Farm, where your favorite chickens go to rest
Dear Great-Uncle Jim,
I guess I’m going to learn how to hatch chicks. I looked up what an incubator was in my library books. It’s a plastic or Styrofoam box that you plug in to keep eggs warm until they hatch.
If you had an incubator, where would you have put it? I thought maybe in the barn, but I looked and looked and looked, and didn’t find it.
While I was looking through everything, I saw Gregory from the loft window, so I went down to tell him that I’m going to get eggs in the mail tomorrow.
I asked if he might know where your incubator was, since he was your friend, and since I need it right away. He didn’t know, but he said he could meet me and my dad or mom after work at Agnes’s barn and see if we could find one there, and maybe some chick-raising information in her file cabinet too.
And you know what? Mom said that Dad would still be out learning stuff about grapes, but since it was an emergency, she’d take an hour off and come with me and Gregory.
Love,
Sophie
PS Chris has raised chicks before—well, Buffy hatched them for him, really, so he didn’t have to use an incubator, and then his Polish chicks came in the mail already hatched, so he didn’t do that part. But they were only a day old when they got here in their box, so he said he’d help me raise them. Samantha hasn’t ever raised chicks, only rabbits, but she says she’ll still help. She is very good at making lists and figuring out what to do.
PPS Chris says maybe the new chicks could live at Redwood Farm, since Agnes probably had lots of chicken areas.
PPPS The chickens you left for me send their love. I know they miss you. Even Henrietta.
Monday, August 4
Jim Brown
Chicken Valhalla (where brave chickens go to sing songs of their slug-vanquishing days and eat all the stale hot dog buns they ever wanted)
Dear Great-Uncle Jim,
I was really excited to visit Redwood Farm and find a place for my new chicks to live after they hatch. Agnes had a lot of chicken coops, and they’re really neat—each coop has an outdoor cage called a chicken run, with the henhouse inside, kind of like for zoo animals. I guess because Agnes had a lot of kinds of chickens that couldn’t all be together, so they couldn’t just come out of the henhouse and run around the barnyard, like my chickens.
But it looks like it’s going to be a lot of work to get the chicken coops ready for my chicks.
I know Agnes did her best, but Gregory said when she got older, it was hard for her to keep up with things. He said he should have helped more, but he didn’t know how much she needed it. Mom told him that sometimes letting people decide how they want to do things shows respect too, even if it would be easier on you to just help them. He agreed, but his face said he was still sad about it.
Gregory says I’ll need my gloves for the blackberry brambles and the poison oak that are filling up the chicken runs, and Mom says it will be hard work, especially when it’s so hot out. But my chickens are worth it.
At least there aren’t any blackberry brambles in the barn. There’s a desk with a box marked “Outbox” and a filing cabinet in one corner. There’s a bunch of wood shavings on the floor. And on the other walls, there are boxes and trash cans and some tools and lumber and stuff that I don’t even know what it is.
Gregory explained that since Agnes left Redwood Farm to me, everything in here was mine now, so I could look at whatever I wanted and even take it home. Mom asked if she could look through the filing cabinet and see if there were any instructions that might help me. I told her sure.
Gregory and I made a list of what I’ll need to incubate eggs and hatch chicks:
An incubator
Sterilizing solution for the incubator
A thermometer
A hygrometer (to measure humidity)
A chick brooder, for after the chicks hatch
A heat lamp, to keep the chicks warm
A chick waterer
A chick feeder
Chick food (Gregory says this has special medicine in it—it isn’t just regular chicken food put through a blender or something)
Chick grit (very, very small rocks—even chicks eat rocks!)
“That’s a long list of things,” I told him. Gregory knows we don’t have a lot of money for stuff like this. He nodded, serious. “This isn’t a beginning chicken project. But if we don’t find it all here, you might be able to borrow what you need from me, or another farmer.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Just keep your eyes open for that incubator,” he told me. “Let me know when you find something that might be it.”
So I took one wall, and he took another. I started reading the labels on all the boxes. ROW COVER, PLANT STAKES & TAGS, 4-INCH POTS, RABBIT & SUET FEEDERS, GRIT.
“Aha!” I said. I had to move a bunch of other boxes to be able to open the box that said GRIT.
Sure enough, there was a plastic bag inside that said CHICK GRIT, along with some others that just said POULTRY GRIT.
Gregory came over and felt the weight of the bag. He said that should be enough.
I made a big check mark on the list.
“Soficita, come see if this is helpful,” Mom said.
I went over to look.
REDWOOD FARM SUPPLY INCUBATION CHECKLIST.
Instructions! “Nice work, Mom,” I told her. She said she’d hang on to them and would look for anything else that might help me.
Gregory said the thermometer and hygrometer he found on the windowsill would work, once I’d cleaned the dust off. Two more check marks!
I found chick food in a metal garbage can. (What is it with these Gravenstein farmers keeping food in trash cans??) The label was taped to the bottom of the lid, so Gregory read it to make sure it was right for chicks. He said it was, so I checked that off the list too.
“Well, the good news is, you’ve got yourself an incubator now,” Gregory told me, showing me a big Styrofoam box with a plug coming out of it.
“What’s the bad news?” I asked.
“The bad news is, it isn’t the kind that’s easy to use.”
&n
bsp; Gregory handed the incubator to me.
“Where’s the on/off switch?” I asked.
Gregory laughed. “This one doesn’t have anything fancy like that,” he said. “You just plug it in.”
I frowned. “Then how can it be hard to use?”
Smiling, he shook his head. “It isn’t hard to make it work; it’s only hard to keep the temperature right to hatch your chicks. You have to remember to check on it a few times a day, and turn it up or down a tiny bit when you need to.” He showed me the dial that said “Increase” and “Decrease.”
“I can add it to my chicken-chores list,” I told him.
Gregory nodded. “Good plan.”
I took the lid off the incubator. Inside, there was a bottle labeled “Ultra-Cleen Hatching Solution,” a plastic bottle with a tray stuck to it, a metal tray with a weird lid with holes in it, and some sticks. I examined the sticks. They were about a foot and a half long, narrow and a little bumpy.
I showed him what was in the box.
“Sterilizer, chick feeder, chick waterer, and chick roosts,” Gregory told me. “Good find.”
I marked them off the list. I didn’t tell him that at first I thought maybe I’d found a batch of magic wands. They weren’t fancy, not like the Harry Potter ones, but then Agnes’s farm wasn’t exactly Hogwarts either.
Then Gregory found a metal light in a box under where the incubator had been. It had a red lightbulb. “Here’s your heat lamp,” he said, showing it to me.
“All that’s left is a chick brooder,” I told him.
He nodded. “You’ll have time to figure that part out—that’s where the chicks will live after they hatch. People even make them out of cardboard boxes.” He looked at the pile of stuff we’d gathered up. “I think you’re all set. Let’s get all this in your car.”
Now I just have to read my instructions and set everything up for my new eggs!
Love,
Sophie
PS I wonder what kind of superpowers they’ll have?
PPS You know what Agnes had? One of those fancy chicken waterers, like at the feedstore! I brought it home and cleaned it up. My chickens love it so much!
PPPS Mom found a quiz and a catalog at Redwood Farm too. I didn’t think it would be cheating to read it. It doesn’t list superpowers.
REDWOOD FARM QUIZ: ARE YOU READY TO HATCH EGGS?
This quiz must be completed and submitted to Redwood Farm before ordering fertile hatching eggs. You must answer all questions in order to score the quiz effectively. Be accurate and honest. We will know.
1. Do you have suitable homes ready for any and all chicks you hatch?
A) That’s someone else’s problem.
✓ B) Yes, I have space for all of them on my farm—even if they’re all roosters.
C) I’m going to build them a replica of the Empire State Building out of cardboard boxes. It should be ready in about ten years.
D) My pet boa constrictor’s stomach is ready.
2. Do you have a stable location for your incubator that’s near a power outlet, away from predators (including dogs, cats, and rats), out of direct sunlight, in a reasonable temperature range (approximately 65–85 degrees F)?
A) I’ll just put the eggs in the refrigerator until they hatch.
✓ B) Yes, my incubator is clean and I should be okay unless the power goes out or there’s some really weird weather.
C) Sure, I’ll go to the zoo, pretend to be a zookeeper, and set everything up in their special behind-the-scenes area. No one will see through my disguise.
D) My pet boa constrictor will keep them nice and warm.
3. Are you prepared to check the temperature and humidity in the incubator and carefully turn the eggs at least 2–3 times per day, every day, for the next 16–18 days?
A) Someone else will do all that boring stuff.
✓ B) Yes, I’ll add it to my farm chores, even if it means I have to visit my classroom on the weekends or say no to friends who are planning fun trips.
C) Well, not tomorrow—I have to climb Mount Everest. And the day after that I have an Olympic-level fencing match.
D) If it’s good enough for my boa, it’s good enough for these eggs.
4. Will you have your brooder ready in a predator-free place for all the chicks that hatch, complete with a heat lamp, chick feeder, chick waterer, and medicated chick food?
A) Whatever.
✓ B) Yes, I’ll be ready. I’m committed to doing my best for these chicks.
C) Tell the postal worker to leave the box anywhere. I’m out of town.
D) That…won’t be necessary.
How to score your quiz:
Give yourself:
1 point for each A
3 points for each B
2 points for each C
0 points for each D
12 points: Ready to Hatch
You think you’re ready, but hatching chicks will be harder than you think. Still, I believe you can do it. You may now order fertile hatching eggs from Redwood Farm Supply.
8–11 points: Only in Your Dreams
You like the idea of hatching eggs more than you’d like the reality. Write a story about it instead, or help someone else with their incubation project. Feel free to take this quiz again if you decide you really do want to do this.
4–7 points: Just Bored
You don’t really want to hatch eggs—or you don’t want to do the work it takes to hatch eggs. Find another science fair project, hobby, or career. Please give this attached note to your parent/teacher/employer:
Regretfully, Redwood Farm Supply has encountered an error that cannot be rectified, and we are unable to ship fertile hatching eggs to this customer.
0–3 points: Exceptional Herpetologist (Stay Away from Unusual Chickens)
Though your devotion to your boa constrictor is admirable, the unusual chickens from Redwood Farm Supply would not be a safe or suitable meal for it. (Trust us.) Wouldn’t you rather hatch reptile eggs? Write to Sun & Sand Herpetology to learn more.
REDWOOD FARM SUPPLY INCUBATION CHECKLIST
Congratulations on purchasing fertile hatching eggs from Redwood Farm Supply!
PART ONE
To set up your incubator and prepare your new eggs:
Clean your incubator with soap and water.
Clean the plastic liner of your incubator with an appropriate disinfectant.
Assemble your incubator per its instructions.
Place your incubator where you can safely hatch your eggs. (You won’t want to move it after the eggs are inside.)
Fill any channels with water to maintain humidity. (See your incubator’s instruction manual.)
Plug in your incubator.
Adjust the thermostat using the dial on the lid to increase or decrease the temperature, or according to your incubator’s instruction manual.
Place your thermometer and hygrometer inside the incubator, where you’ll be able to read them through the window in the incubator’s lid.
Put the lid back on the incubator.
Wash your hands. (Always make sure your hands are clean before handling fertile hatching eggs!)
Unwrap your eggs and mark each egg with an X on one long side and an O on the opposite long side.
Carefully place the eggs in a clean egg carton, big round end up.
Let the eggs sit undisturbed at room temperature for 12–24 hours. This allows the air sacs inside to stabilize and move back to the big end, if they were shaken up during shipping.
To begin incubating your eggs:
Check the incubator’s thermometer. If the temperature isn’t 99.5 degrees F, adjust the thermostat dial. Do not put the eggs inside until the temperature is correct.
Check the incubator’s
hygrometer. If the humidity isn’t between 45% and 55%, add or remove water from the channels. Do not put the eggs inside until the humidity is correct.
Wash your hands.
Carefully place the eggs on their sides in the incubator, like they’re lying down. Turn all the eggs so you can see the X.
Put the lid back on the incubator.
Check the temperature, but don’t turn it up! Instead, check it again after 4–6 hours—if it’s still too low, you can adjust it then. Adding room-temperature eggs will lower the temperature at first, but you don’t want to accidentally cook them by raising the temperature too high.
Be sure to complete the following tasks at least 2–3 times every day (5 times is better), for Days 1–18 for standard chicken eggs (Days 1–15 for bantam chicken eggs):
Wash your hands.
Check the temperature inside the incubator. If it does not read 99.5 degrees F, adjust the thermostat dial accordingly.
Check the humidity inside the incubator. If it is close to or below 45%, add more water to the channels. If it is close to or above 55%, mop up some water or tape some plastic wrap partway over the channels.
Open the incubator and turn the eggs so that the opposite marking shows on all eggs.
Put the lid back on the incubator.
