Don't be Chicken

"How do you know if someone raises chickens?"

"They'll tell you."

It's the same for yoga, vegans and CrossFit. People get so excited about the new thing at the outset. They've got to tell everyone, by which I mean family, friends and random guys in the checkout lane. I won't bore you with the comedies and tragedies we've enjoyed in three years of raising chickens. There are some noteworthy lessons from the experience.

Honor the sacrifice. The kids love an oven-baked chicken from our flock. The taste of a truly free-roaming, bug-eating bird is beyond anything you'll get in a grocery store. The kids also understand exactly what it took to get that bird from the yard to the plate. The more intimately you understand the sacrifice, the more meaningful the joy you'll experience in the success.

Get dirty. "Keep your mouth shut," was the advice from an elderly neighbour regarding butchering chickens. This wasn't a request for peace and quiet. "There's nothing in or on that chicken you want to swallow." Fair point. But there's joy in rolling up your sleeves and getting your hands dirty. For you maybe it's pouring over code. Or doing a deep dive on some arcane industry topic. Actively look for opportunities to dig around in the dirt.

You can't make chicken salad out of chicken $&!+. But, the latter has value on its own. If I take a six pound roaster to Granny, she's happy. If I bring her several five gallon buckets of chicken manure, she absolutely beams. The beefsteak tomatoes in her garden will jump out of the ground. Don't discount something's value. You might just need to find the right audience.

Don't chicken out. When raising birds there's always a chance something could go drastically wrong. Avian flu. Aggressive coyotes. Understand the worst-case scenario. Mitigate what you can. Then forget it. Don't let a low-probability chance of complete failure keep you from the journey.