When resident Nellie Bhattarai appeared before supervisors Monday night, she showed off a yellow, foam carton of eggs in various sizes and shades.
The eggs came from a farm near Williamsport, and Bhattarai wanted township officials and gathered residents to notice that each egg was different.
“When we go to the grocery store, we don’t have eggs like this in our grocery store,” she said. “And so, again, it’s an opportunity to educate about what the possibilities are and
get away from the homogeneous food we’re served all of the time.”
The show and tell came as the board held a public hearing before a final vote on an ordinance allowing chicken hens on residential township lots. Supervisors passed it 3-2, with Denny Hameister, Cliff Warner and Nigel Wilson in favor, and Bud Graham and Paul Rittenhouse opposed.
The ordinance, discussed since last fall, allows residents on lots less than 10 acres to raise from two to eight hens, depending on lot size. Lots as small as 3,000 square feet may have two chickens.
Residents must apply for a permit to have a backyard, stationary chicken coop, which must be at least six feet from the property line. Permits will be available starting Tuesday.
Two property owners spoke Monday in opposition of chickens. Real estate appraiser Mark Bigatel told the story of his negative experience with chickens 10 years ago, when tenants of a farm he owns starting keeping the birds which, eventually, attracted rats, then coyotes.
“We had to evict our chickens,” he said, adding that the bad odor, rats and coyotes eventually went away afterward. He said he’s most concerned about property values in the village, where properties are close together. “I just wanted people to think of the unintended consequences.”
Kaywood neighborhood resident Barb Fiscus asked supervisors to consider returning to the 20-foot setback in the first version of the ordinance, concerned that six feet doesn’t provide enough separation.
Township Manager Amy Farkas said the change reflects the provision allowing residents to use existing structures, like a shed, as a coop. Those structures may sit closer than 20 feet to the property line.
Supervisors engaged in a short discussion, having talked at length about the ordinance during previous meetings.
Rittenhouse said his greatest concern was the emails in opposition of chickens, and how those residents can control enforcement of potential problems.
“The neighbor can call and complain,” Wilson said.
Zoning officer Todd Shea confirmed he has sent letters to residents for keeping the birds illegally. Now that the practice is legal, he said complaints will result in an investigation to determine if there is an ordinance violation.
Because of the illegal activity previously, Farkas anticipates a flock of residents applying for coop permits.
While Bhattarai said she won’t be in line next week, she said housing chickens is a priority for her family.
“I’m very excited that it was passed,” she said. “It was a respectful balance, and that’s important in our community.”
2012年2月16日星期四
2011年10月27日星期四
City chickens in Hogtown?
With a garden of tomatoes, onions and radicchio as their backdrop, Emily and Sophie gingerly move across the back lawn of a bungalow, peeking in and out of their makeshift coop.
It’s a regular fall scene at this North Toronto property. After all, the backyard is home to these two full-sized chickens.
Homeowner Josie, whose spacious backyard gives Emily and Sophie plenty of freedom to roam, smiles as she watches her pets peck about on a cool October day.
“Emily, Emily come over here,” she calls, encouraging the pair to come eat some of the leftover food scraps she has laid on the ground.
Named after Josie’s grandchildren, Emily and Sophie are fruitful companions, producing brown eggs almost daily in the summer months.
Though neighbours on the quiet cul-de-sac where they live seem unperturbed by the backyard fowl — Josie says she hasn’t had a single complaint in the three years since she adopted her pets — Emily and Sophie’s living arrangement is indeed illegal in Toronto.
But that could change as early as next year, when a report on backyard hens is expected to hatch at council.
Director of the Toronto Environment Office Lawson Oates confirmed that his office is preparing a report for the city’s municipal licensing and standards committee that will carry recommendations to revise the prohibited animals bylaw and allow residents to keep backyard hens.
The revision, Lawson says, would be part of the evolution of the city’s relatively new Urban Agriculture Policy, which outlines rules and regulations for everything from community gardens to local food production.
Councillor Joe Mihevc, who says he knows of a few residents in his ward who have backyard chickens, is all for a bylaw change.
The Ward 21 councillor says the current law is incongruent with the growing local food and urban agriculture movement.
“Provided that they are kept clean and are well taken care of there’s no reason why we should be saying no to it,” he said of backyard fowl. “Most cities around the world allow hens.
“We are Johnny-Come-Latelys to this issue.”
Indeed cities including Brampton, Niagara Falls and Vancouver allow backyard hens. Some municipalities that allow backyard hens have restrictions related to lot size and most do not allow roosters.
The issue was first raised at city hall with a request for a report on urban agriculture before the park and environment committee back in June 2009. Staff was expected to investigate the feasibility of raising chickens in an urban setting.
One Toronto backyard hen advocate says a change in the bylaw is a long time coming.
The St. Paul’s resident, who goes by the moniker “Toronto Chicken” on her website to avoid city inspectors at her door, owns three chickens that reside year-round in her backyard.
“It’s seems like it’s taking forever,” she said. “I got my chickens in 2007 and I thought it would be like a year before the law changed and here we are in 2011.”
Toronto Chicken says she uses every egg almost as they’re laid, and is making arrangements to add two more chickens to her brood of three as to avoid last-minute runs to the grocery store.
Her family loves the taste and quality eggs produced in her coop, she says.
If there is dissent to a bylaw change, Toronto Chicken thinks it’s because there is a misconception of owners keeping large number of chickens in residential areas.
“When you have large quantities of chickens, there is going to be a smell and there is going to be noise,” she said.
Which is why the report coming to the standards committee will recommend a cap on the number of hens a person is allowed to keep, Lawson notes.
While Josie says she would have no problem getting rid of the chickens were bylaw inspectors to crack down, Toronto Chicken says she would fight to keep hers.
“I think it’s a basic right that we should be allowed to produce in a responsible manner our own food wherever possible,” she said. “Whether it’s an apple tree or growing tomatoes or having a few hens in the backyard.”
It’s a regular fall scene at this North Toronto property. After all, the backyard is home to these two full-sized chickens.
Homeowner Josie, whose spacious backyard gives Emily and Sophie plenty of freedom to roam, smiles as she watches her pets peck about on a cool October day.
“Emily, Emily come over here,” she calls, encouraging the pair to come eat some of the leftover food scraps she has laid on the ground.
Named after Josie’s grandchildren, Emily and Sophie are fruitful companions, producing brown eggs almost daily in the summer months.
Though neighbours on the quiet cul-de-sac where they live seem unperturbed by the backyard fowl — Josie says she hasn’t had a single complaint in the three years since she adopted her pets — Emily and Sophie’s living arrangement is indeed illegal in Toronto.
But that could change as early as next year, when a report on backyard hens is expected to hatch at council.
Director of the Toronto Environment Office Lawson Oates confirmed that his office is preparing a report for the city’s municipal licensing and standards committee that will carry recommendations to revise the prohibited animals bylaw and allow residents to keep backyard hens.
The revision, Lawson says, would be part of the evolution of the city’s relatively new Urban Agriculture Policy, which outlines rules and regulations for everything from community gardens to local food production.
Councillor Joe Mihevc, who says he knows of a few residents in his ward who have backyard chickens, is all for a bylaw change.
The Ward 21 councillor says the current law is incongruent with the growing local food and urban agriculture movement.
“Provided that they are kept clean and are well taken care of there’s no reason why we should be saying no to it,” he said of backyard fowl. “Most cities around the world allow hens.
“We are Johnny-Come-Latelys to this issue.”
Indeed cities including Brampton, Niagara Falls and Vancouver allow backyard hens. Some municipalities that allow backyard hens have restrictions related to lot size and most do not allow roosters.
The issue was first raised at city hall with a request for a report on urban agriculture before the park and environment committee back in June 2009. Staff was expected to investigate the feasibility of raising chickens in an urban setting.
One Toronto backyard hen advocate says a change in the bylaw is a long time coming.
The St. Paul’s resident, who goes by the moniker “Toronto Chicken” on her website to avoid city inspectors at her door, owns three chickens that reside year-round in her backyard.
“It’s seems like it’s taking forever,” she said. “I got my chickens in 2007 and I thought it would be like a year before the law changed and here we are in 2011.”
Toronto Chicken says she uses every egg almost as they’re laid, and is making arrangements to add two more chickens to her brood of three as to avoid last-minute runs to the grocery store.
Her family loves the taste and quality eggs produced in her coop, she says.
If there is dissent to a bylaw change, Toronto Chicken thinks it’s because there is a misconception of owners keeping large number of chickens in residential areas.
“When you have large quantities of chickens, there is going to be a smell and there is going to be noise,” she said.
Which is why the report coming to the standards committee will recommend a cap on the number of hens a person is allowed to keep, Lawson notes.
While Josie says she would have no problem getting rid of the chickens were bylaw inspectors to crack down, Toronto Chicken says she would fight to keep hers.
“I think it’s a basic right that we should be allowed to produce in a responsible manner our own food wherever possible,” she said. “Whether it’s an apple tree or growing tomatoes or having a few hens in the backyard.”
2011年10月19日星期三
The growing popularity of personal poultry
Georgia Dempsey literally saved her pennies to buy chickens. At five years old, the Wadmalaw Island girl became enamored with her neighbor's flock. She painted pictures for them, held them in her arms, and dreamed of one day having her own.
Today, at age 7, Georgia happily introduces her hens by name — there's Ms. Frizzle, an especially fluffy Silkie, and her personal favorite, Brownie. Three roosters keep the seven hens company: Spike, Peewee, and Rudy (the bully of the bunch, claims Georgia). She shows off her chicken tractor, a mobile coop that lets chickens move to a fresh patch of grass each day. "They love greens, but they hate onions," explains the little girl, before scooping up Brownie into her arms and posing for a picture.
Georgia's chickens demonstrate both the ease and the work required to own chickens. The Dempseys ordered their chicks online and had food, water, and their coop ready to go when the post office called to say their squeaking little box had arrived. A year later, the family enjoys fresh, home-raised eggs on a daily basis (although the hens' output decreases as the days grow shorter), and Georgia has gained valuable lessons in responsibility at an early age.
Just down the street, Benjamin Tyrone Gadsdon keeps an even larger flock in a series of coops behind his home off of Bears Bluff Road. A mortician by trade, Gadsdon goes by "The Undertaker." He might also be called "The Chicken Whisperer," as he diligently answers to his roosters every time they give their telltale yodel. "Opapawaydjo," he exclaims ("Papa, where 'a John go?") before answering, "He 'a goin' to the store," when the roosters call back.
"I was born in the country. Since I was a kid, we raised chickens," explains Gadsdon, thumping his chest at a rooster who saunters up to the edge of the coop near him. "We were born close to the earth, and we live off the earth."
Gadsdon's case is a bit different from Georgia's. These are what he and his Geechee neighbors call yard chickens, and they're destined for the dinner table. With an almost equal prevalence of roosters and hens, the flock also wouldn't work too well in an urban environment.
Still, it's not unheard of to hear roosters making their dawn announcement on the peninsula. Penny Patton kept a rooster/hen pair in her Gibbes Street lawn for 14 years, just down the street from Mayor Joe Riley's house.
"He was the love of the neighborhood," recalls Patton of her rooster, explaining that potential complainers were often appeased by the promise of eggs or the adoration of their children. "But they do make a racket, let me tell you."
Patton says her chickens kept the yard free of cockroaches and termites, but also ate the baby bullfrogs living in her fountain.
"They always dig and scratch around for things. We would landscape the yard and then come home to five or six plants scattered around," she says.
Even on the peninsula, foxes, opossums, and raccoons are a threat. But despite clipped wings, the birds could still manage to get high into trees to roost.
Of course, chickens defecate freely and often. Cleaning out the chicken coop has never been a choice job on any farm. Although Patton appreciated the manure as a fertilizer, it's at the top of the "cons" column for other amateur chicken farmers. Other negatives are the inevitable holes left throughout the yard as the birds scratch, dig, and cool themselves down with dust baths.
Within the City of Charleston, it's legal to raise chickens, provided written permission is obtained from all neighbors within 150 feet. That stipulation means that most urban coops fly below the radar. City Paper spoke with three existing downtown chicken owners, none of whom wanted their names printed. All, however, love their hens. One lets hers walk around the kitchen and eat out of her hand. Another lost a hen to a hawk in broad daylight, a reminder of how the laws of nature still exist in the middle of the city.
Most downtown chicken owners stick with hens; they're quieter than roosters. "I have enough trouble with all the college kids around me without adding a rooster to the mix," says one peninsula chicken owner. Another downtown owner who has kept a rooster claims that she's heard others responding when hers called in the mornings. The Tractor Supply store in Ravenel says they've sold more chicks to Charleston residents this year than ever before.
Across the Ashley River, Sybil Fix's backyard coop may be the model of chickens raised right. Thirteen hens wander freely between a shaded, covered shed with plenty of room for nesting and an outdoor area where Fix hangs cabbages for them to munch on throughout the day. Inside her home, Fix's walls are adorned with dozens of paintings of her chickies, from tiny portraits to wall-sized hangings.
"I got them because I'm a huge animal lover. I thought it would be really interesting to develop a connection with a species so foreign to us," says Fix. "Then I started painting them to show their individuality."
Today, at age 7, Georgia happily introduces her hens by name — there's Ms. Frizzle, an especially fluffy Silkie, and her personal favorite, Brownie. Three roosters keep the seven hens company: Spike, Peewee, and Rudy (the bully of the bunch, claims Georgia). She shows off her chicken tractor, a mobile coop that lets chickens move to a fresh patch of grass each day. "They love greens, but they hate onions," explains the little girl, before scooping up Brownie into her arms and posing for a picture.
Georgia's chickens demonstrate both the ease and the work required to own chickens. The Dempseys ordered their chicks online and had food, water, and their coop ready to go when the post office called to say their squeaking little box had arrived. A year later, the family enjoys fresh, home-raised eggs on a daily basis (although the hens' output decreases as the days grow shorter), and Georgia has gained valuable lessons in responsibility at an early age.
Just down the street, Benjamin Tyrone Gadsdon keeps an even larger flock in a series of coops behind his home off of Bears Bluff Road. A mortician by trade, Gadsdon goes by "The Undertaker." He might also be called "The Chicken Whisperer," as he diligently answers to his roosters every time they give their telltale yodel. "Opapawaydjo," he exclaims ("Papa, where 'a John go?") before answering, "He 'a goin' to the store," when the roosters call back.
"I was born in the country. Since I was a kid, we raised chickens," explains Gadsdon, thumping his chest at a rooster who saunters up to the edge of the coop near him. "We were born close to the earth, and we live off the earth."
Gadsdon's case is a bit different from Georgia's. These are what he and his Geechee neighbors call yard chickens, and they're destined for the dinner table. With an almost equal prevalence of roosters and hens, the flock also wouldn't work too well in an urban environment.
Still, it's not unheard of to hear roosters making their dawn announcement on the peninsula. Penny Patton kept a rooster/hen pair in her Gibbes Street lawn for 14 years, just down the street from Mayor Joe Riley's house.
"He was the love of the neighborhood," recalls Patton of her rooster, explaining that potential complainers were often appeased by the promise of eggs or the adoration of their children. "But they do make a racket, let me tell you."
Patton says her chickens kept the yard free of cockroaches and termites, but also ate the baby bullfrogs living in her fountain.
"They always dig and scratch around for things. We would landscape the yard and then come home to five or six plants scattered around," she says.
Even on the peninsula, foxes, opossums, and raccoons are a threat. But despite clipped wings, the birds could still manage to get high into trees to roost.
Of course, chickens defecate freely and often. Cleaning out the chicken coop has never been a choice job on any farm. Although Patton appreciated the manure as a fertilizer, it's at the top of the "cons" column for other amateur chicken farmers. Other negatives are the inevitable holes left throughout the yard as the birds scratch, dig, and cool themselves down with dust baths.
Within the City of Charleston, it's legal to raise chickens, provided written permission is obtained from all neighbors within 150 feet. That stipulation means that most urban coops fly below the radar. City Paper spoke with three existing downtown chicken owners, none of whom wanted their names printed. All, however, love their hens. One lets hers walk around the kitchen and eat out of her hand. Another lost a hen to a hawk in broad daylight, a reminder of how the laws of nature still exist in the middle of the city.
Most downtown chicken owners stick with hens; they're quieter than roosters. "I have enough trouble with all the college kids around me without adding a rooster to the mix," says one peninsula chicken owner. Another downtown owner who has kept a rooster claims that she's heard others responding when hers called in the mornings. The Tractor Supply store in Ravenel says they've sold more chicks to Charleston residents this year than ever before.
Across the Ashley River, Sybil Fix's backyard coop may be the model of chickens raised right. Thirteen hens wander freely between a shaded, covered shed with plenty of room for nesting and an outdoor area where Fix hangs cabbages for them to munch on throughout the day. Inside her home, Fix's walls are adorned with dozens of paintings of her chickies, from tiny portraits to wall-sized hangings.
"I got them because I'm a huge animal lover. I thought it would be really interesting to develop a connection with a species so foreign to us," says Fix. "Then I started painting them to show their individuality."
2011年8月25日星期四
The chicken and the egg
I was driving around Kent a few days ago and noticed chickens scurrying around behind a house. Chickens have become a popular item on city council agendas lately. Seattle passed an ordinance allowing residents to raise chickens and the Tukwila City Council on Monday was working on a similar ordinance.
A number of cities around the Puget Sound are allowing folks to raise chickens in urban settings. It must be another sign of the economic times.
Eggs may be the perfect food. I’ve heard in French cooking schools the first weeks are spent learning how to properly cook eggs. Omelets are very tricky. I’ve watched the Julia Child omelet episode a million times and I still don’t quite have all the cool flips down.
My notion of raising chickens is probably different from some, at least those folks raised in what my folks used to call “in town”.
I was raised until about the sixth grade on a dairy farm on top of a hill in Enumclaw. One of my early jobs was taking care of our chickens, or what I came to call them – stupid, life-threatening, feathered killers.
When I was young I felt my brothers had all the cool jobs around the farm, driving tractor, milking the cows and throwing hay bales around. Since I was more than 10 years younger I was feeling cheated out of the chic jobs that would advance me in life and get me a girl.
Obviously, the twists in my personality started early.
To make me feel better my dad gave me the chicken coop duty, which meant collecting eggs each day.
At first I thought it was a major breakthrough and I intended to become the best chicken caretaker on our farm, showing up my dopey brothers.
Initially, things worked out just as I planned. I was sure my chickens loved me most. What I didn’t know was a demon was lurking in the shadows.
I remember coming home from school, grabbing my bucket and heading out to the coop.
I collected the egg without letting the hens peck me to shreds. I thought I was well ahead of these birds with quick hands and more brains.
I was sauntering across the pen daydreaming as usual when something suddenly hit me and knocked me to the ground.
I looked back and there was this gigantic rooster, wings spread and I was sure he was frothing at the beak. I couldn’t believe it. I thought my chickens loved me.
In a fit of bravery, I jumped up and ran as fast as I could, slamming the gate closed before the killer rooster could get me. Thank God he didn’t have hands.
This little charade went on for about a week. I would try to collect eggs and the rooster would chase me around the pen like it was the best days of his crummy life.
My grandma finally figured out the egg production had dropped to zero. I had to tell her I was beaten by a rooster.
My grandma said she would go out to the chicken pen with me to guard me from the rooster.
Wonderful... protected by my grandma.
You can imagine how well this flew with my brothers.
I have an image I will never forget. Looking back after running full speed from the charging red demon at my grandma repeatedly whacking the rooster with her house broom.
Grandma saved me, and the best part was after helping me she gave me a big piece of wild blackberry pie and vanilla ice cream.
I was scarred for life, but that pie was sure good.
A number of cities around the Puget Sound are allowing folks to raise chickens in urban settings. It must be another sign of the economic times.
Eggs may be the perfect food. I’ve heard in French cooking schools the first weeks are spent learning how to properly cook eggs. Omelets are very tricky. I’ve watched the Julia Child omelet episode a million times and I still don’t quite have all the cool flips down.
My notion of raising chickens is probably different from some, at least those folks raised in what my folks used to call “in town”.
I was raised until about the sixth grade on a dairy farm on top of a hill in Enumclaw. One of my early jobs was taking care of our chickens, or what I came to call them – stupid, life-threatening, feathered killers.
When I was young I felt my brothers had all the cool jobs around the farm, driving tractor, milking the cows and throwing hay bales around. Since I was more than 10 years younger I was feeling cheated out of the chic jobs that would advance me in life and get me a girl.
Obviously, the twists in my personality started early.
To make me feel better my dad gave me the chicken coop duty, which meant collecting eggs each day.
At first I thought it was a major breakthrough and I intended to become the best chicken caretaker on our farm, showing up my dopey brothers.
Initially, things worked out just as I planned. I was sure my chickens loved me most. What I didn’t know was a demon was lurking in the shadows.
I remember coming home from school, grabbing my bucket and heading out to the coop.
I collected the egg without letting the hens peck me to shreds. I thought I was well ahead of these birds with quick hands and more brains.
I was sauntering across the pen daydreaming as usual when something suddenly hit me and knocked me to the ground.
I looked back and there was this gigantic rooster, wings spread and I was sure he was frothing at the beak. I couldn’t believe it. I thought my chickens loved me.
In a fit of bravery, I jumped up and ran as fast as I could, slamming the gate closed before the killer rooster could get me. Thank God he didn’t have hands.
This little charade went on for about a week. I would try to collect eggs and the rooster would chase me around the pen like it was the best days of his crummy life.
My grandma finally figured out the egg production had dropped to zero. I had to tell her I was beaten by a rooster.
My grandma said she would go out to the chicken pen with me to guard me from the rooster.
Wonderful... protected by my grandma.
You can imagine how well this flew with my brothers.
I have an image I will never forget. Looking back after running full speed from the charging red demon at my grandma repeatedly whacking the rooster with her house broom.
Grandma saved me, and the best part was after helping me she gave me a big piece of wild blackberry pie and vanilla ice cream.
I was scarred for life, but that pie was sure good.
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