Jail Break

Life's better with friend

This morning the first few eggs in the incubator had little air holes broken into their shells. The tiny vents, aptly named "pips," are the first clear external sign that it's hatching time.

At the (hopefully) tail end of a very long week where our family is battling the back-to-school baby plague, knowing chicks were finally on their way was welcome news.

Being born seems to be a dangerous business for almost every living thing, and chickens are no different. Eggs will only hatch when the environment is perfect. If just a few degrees, percentage points of humidity, or positioning of the eggs is off, it can be the difference between life and death. Even when everything is ideal, birth is still a risky proposition, but I guess it beats the alternative.

The average chicken egg incubates for about 21 days. For most of that time, the eggs are continuously turned to allow the chicks to develop normally and prevent them from sticking inside their shells. Since I have an incubator, I also have an "egg turner" that constantly rocks the eggs back and forth. The motion mimics what the hens would do if they sat on their own eggs.

Some people who use incubators opt to turn their eggs by hand every 4 to 6 hours, but since I can't even remember to take a vitamin every day, I can't be trusted with such a task. More automation is better for me.

Eggs are removed from the turner for the last three days of incubation and kept still. If the eggs are under a chicken, she'll just stop moving and sit there like a creepy chicken statue for the full three days. The fact that a chicken’s instincts can make her just sit there with no breaks tells you how bananas that mothering instinct is deep in that walnut-sized brain. Good for her.