As the emu fad was passing in 1994, Chuck DeCourley and his wife, Sue, bought a pair of emus. He was looking for a marketable use for the eggs, perhaps something artistic, but simply painting the shells seemed too obvious. Then DeCourley learned of a unique feature of emu eggs — the shells are made of three distinct layers, each of a different color.

There are three primary layers in the shell of an emu egg. The outside is dark green. The middle layer is teal, and the inside layer is nearly white. Occasionally there is a fourth layer, which is thin and rather gray, between the outside layer and the teal layer. Carving the eggshells seemed to use the colors of each layer to the best advantage.

So in 1997, after doing some research, DeCourley purchased an engraving system. He taped a snowflake pattern onto an eggshell and started carving. That was a crude experiment, but it was the beginning of a hobby that has held DeCourley’s interest for more than a decade. In January 1998, DeCourley’s father, who was in a nursing home, suggested DeCourley try carving playing cards into an egg. That was supposed to be a practice project, too, but DeCourley was able to give the finished carving to his father for his 68th birthday. His father, being nearly blind at the time, was able to feel the precision carving of the egg and was pleased with the gift.

Getting Ready to Sculpt

To clean the eggs, DeCourley drills a three-eighths-inch hole into the large end of the egg with a diamond bit. Regular drill bits can cause hairline cracks that can’t be easily seen. These cracks would ruin the egg during the carving process. Eggs should be cleaned out when fresh or, at the very least, within three to four months of being laid. Some people use a sander to create a hole in the egg, but the holes generally get large.

Egg contents can be shaken out, or you can use an “egg-sucking bucket:” a vacuum device to remove the contents of eggs. After this, use a 25-percent bleach solution to remove the lining of the egg. Be sure to use rubber gloves when working with bleach, and avoid the fumes by working in a properly ventilated area. The solution only needs to be left in the egg for a few minutes, but then needs to be rinsed out thoroughly. The outside (dark-green) layer won’t fade if exposed to the bleach solution for a short amount of time, but if left for several hours will cause discoloration.

Shells are then coated with Krylon clear acrylic. This gives the eggs a non-yellowing, UV-resistant coating, but the carving will still turn a sort of sepia color if left in sunlight or under fluorescent lights. Carvings are best displayed under incandescent light. It is also important to protect the inside of the shells, as the white layer is only 0.005- to 0.006-inch thick. For this, you could use a mixture of 50 percent Elmer’s glue and 50 percent water. Coat the inside of the egg several times with this mixture prior to working on the egg. If you consider carving chicken or goose eggs, in which case you might have larger empty spaces or fine filigree work, this is an especially important part of the process.

When choosing a design, be careful to choose a pattern that is not under copyright protection if you plan to sell the carving. Then simply use a copy machine to reduce the pattern to the size you need and attach it to the eggshell with glue stick. The glue softens the paper; and if the paper creases during application, simply dampen the paper and reglue it. After the glue dries, you’re nearly ready to start carving, but remember: Safety first. The calcium dust caused by the carving process is fine. DeCourley recommends using a dust collector box with a vacuum system. He also sculpts the egg under a Plexiglas shield and wears earplugs while working, as the drill used in carving produces a high-pitched (and loud) noise.

Equipment for Carving Eggs

DeCourley’s tool of choice is a “Turbocarver,” which is an air-powered dentist’s drill. The hand piece is light and comfortable, it needs no lubricating oil and can carve with or without water. DeCourley’s preference is to carve without water, because when the water mixes with the dust it produces a mud-like substance. This is a second-best situation if you don’t have dust box to remove the dust as you sculpt.

Another option for the carving tool is “Dental Tech” hand piece. This uses no air or water to run, but needs to be oiled every four hours.

The carving tool requires a significant volume of air to work properly, but not a great deal of pressure. Only 70 pounds per square inch (psi) on the condenser is required to turn the bit an amazingly fast 400,000 to 450,000 rotations per minute (rpm). The burrs (bits) are carbide and diamond burrs purchased from a dental supply house.

DeCourley uses an inverted cone burr for the basic outlines of the pattern. Being right-handed, he works in a clockwise rotation, with the burr turning away from himself. This method cuts neatly through the pattern paper without making the edges of the paper rough. As you pull the tool toward you, you make larger cuts. Working away from yourself produces finer cuts. To maintain the pattern, it is best to work from the outside of the pattern toward the center.

An old sock filled with fish-tank gravel makes an excellent resting place for the eggshells while being carved. In addition, the artist usually holds the egg with one hand while carving with the other.

Keep an extra copy of the pattern handy for reference while carving. After the basic outlines are carved, you have the pattern sketched onto the shell. “Study the egg as you work. The egg talks to me like a canvas speaks to a painter,” DeCourley says.

The Finished Product

The quality of each carving improves with time and experience. How does DeCourley know when the carving is complete? “I ask myself, ‘What can I do to make this egg better? Nothing.’ Then I quit,” he says. Although some artists polish the finished work, DeCourley does not. “I leave the burr marks in there — it’s my signature,” he says. But the marks are few and small, so they’re not easily seen.

DeCourley has sculpted over 30 eggshells since he began, and has been featured in the Eggshell Sculptor Newsletter.

The eggs make great gifts for special occasions and sell for $100 to $500. “They’re not the everyday gift,” says DeCourley. Preparing each egg for carving can take 30 minutes to two hours. Carving the egg can take 10 to 50 hours or more. This is a rare art. Many people sell decorated eggs, but few people sell sculpted eggshells.

An investment in the basic carving system, including compressor, hand piece, dust collector and some burrs, will start at about $500.

Photos by Troy Griepentrog

You can participate in the our Survey of Chicken Breeds and Hybrids.

One of the first questions people ask when they’re thinking about raising chickens is, “What kind of chickens should I get?”

That question leads to more questions. Do you want to keep chickens primarily for eggs or for pest control? How much space do you have? What are the temperature extremes in your location? Do you want your chickens to hatch eggs and raise chicks? What color eggs do you prefer?

After you’ve answered those (and other) questions, you’ll want to match your needs and desires with the breed or breeds that meet your criteria. But what are the characteristics of each breed? You can research many breeds, but how do you know the information is reliable?

Although we understand that there are significant variations within breeds of chickens, each breed has a few characteristics that are common to almost all birds of that breed. And we think that some of the information about certain chicken breeds and hybrids might be outdated, or even wrong. So, we’ve developed a survey to determine the characteristics of breeds of chickens. Our goal is to publish an article summarizing the survey in the April/May 2010 issue of MOTHER EARTH NEWS magazine.

If you have experience raising chickens, we’d like you to take the Survey of Chicken Breeds and Hybrids. Depending on your experience, it may take 15 or 20 minutes to complete. You can start by clicking here.

One of my assignments at MOTHER EARTH NEWS is to “clean up” some of the articles on the website — articles from the 1970s and ’80s that were not scanned accurately. Recently, I’ve been focusing on the Plowboy Interviews. These 90 articles, published from 1970 to 1986, are conversations with prominent, if not always well-known, individuals from every walk of life — science, agriculture, business, medicine, philosophy and more.

Many of the Plowboy Interviews are on controversial topics, such as population, which has recently been debated on the pages of the Mother Earth News magazine and on the website. Paul Ehrlich, author of The Population Bomb, was interviewed in 1974. Paul and his wife, Anne, subsequently produced a column, Ecoscience, on current environmental issues for the magazine.

It seems that some readers believe we should honor the magazine’s sustainable-living roots and stay away from politically-sensitive topics such as population. What these readers aren’t aware of is MOTHER EARTH NEWS has reported on controversial topics since its humble beginnings in 1970 — the Viet Nam war, the Exxon Valdez oil spill, Reagonomics (in fact all of the presidents have been mentioned in the magazine), economics, the national energy policy, pollution and nuclear proliferation. The magazine was considered one of the leading anti-establishment, pro-environment publications, offering alternatives to the status quo.

To learn more about the early history of the magazine and it’s environmental/sustainable living focus, check out The Story Of Mother Earth News from the 20^th anniversary issue (March 1990). And search Plowboy Interview on the website to read the 90 interviews with people who had a profound impact on the country and the world.

It’s the time of year when people are thinking “turkey.” So, this is a good time to compare six heritage breeds of turkeys that we raise. We have been raising heritage turkeys for quite a few years now. It started with a pair of Midget Whites; our most recent addition is the Standard Bronze. At any time, we have approximately 100 turkeys on the farm.

We raise Midget White, Beltsville Small White, White Holland, Royal Palm, Bourbon Red and Standard Bronze turkeys. We originally planned to raise a small flock of turkeys for meat, but we liked them so much that one breed was not enough. The more we researched, the more we wanted to help preserve some of the rare breeds. Here’s a brief history of the breeds that we raise, listed by size small to large.

Midget White

In the 1960s, J. R. Smyth Jr., who holds a doctorate in poultry genetics and served on the faculty at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, Mass., developed the Midget White as a small meat turkey. Unfortunately, they never really caught on and the flock was dispersed. (Read A History of the Midget White Turkey.) The Midget White and the Beltsville Small White were the only 2 breeds specifically bred for the modern poultry market; the others are much older breeds and were developed on a more local or geographic level. The Midget White was never accepted into the American Poultry Association (APA).

Mature toms (males) weigh 16 to 20 pound; hens, 8 to 12 pounds. The Midgets are easily the favorite at our table because they taste great, and we rank them No. 1. This breed also received the most votes at the second annual “Timeless Turkey” taste test of nine heritage breeds at Ayrshire Farm.

Midge Whites lay a surprisingly large egg for a small hen, which can cause prolapse problems with young hens on the first laying cycle. They tend to be early layers but go broody quickly, are good sitters and do well raising poults (babies). They have a calm nature. The hens can be fence-jumpers because of their light weight. For more information on Midget Whites, read Why the Midget White Turkey is the Perfect Homestead Turkey.

Beltsville Small White

The Beltsville Small White was developed in the 1930s by Stanley Marsden and others. At the height of popularity the Beltsville Small White was the No. 1 selling turkey in the United States, outselling all the other breeds. Its success was short lived, as Broad Breasted turkeys became more popular because of shorter growing time and larger size. Beltsville Small Whites were recognized by the APA in 1951.

These birds are the same size as the Midget White, or maybe a few pounds heavier. They have wider breasts. A very nice table bird, they have the classic turkey appearance; however, we rank them fourth in taste as they have a more bland flavor than the others. They are the most prolific layers and outlay all our other breeds combined. The younger hens show little interest in sitting, but the more mature hens are more inclined to hatch eggs and be good mothers. They are the most standoffish of the breeds we raise; they show little interest in us except at feeding time.

White Holland

The White Holland is the oldest breed we raise. White feathered turkeys were brought to Europe by the early explorers. The white turkeys were bred in Holland where they were given their name; from there they returned to the colonies with the early settlers. Also a popular meat bird that was pushed out by the Broad Breasted, they were recognized by the APA in 1874.

Toms mature to 30 pounds, and hens weigh about 20 pounds. We rank the White Holland No. 3 on our scale, due to the size and shape of the dressed bird; they show their history of being a popular meat bird in the past. White Hollands are the calmest of the varieties we raise and are a great choice for someone who doesn’t have experience raising turkeys. They’re good setters and mothers but they sometimes break eggs by stepping on them because the hens are so large.

Royal Palm

The Royal Palm is the only breed we raise that is not specifically raised as a meat turkey but more of an ornamental type. The breed dates to the 1920s and ’30s. With the black and white color pattern, their appearance is striking. They were recognized by the APA in 1977.

Mature Royal Palm toms weigh about 18 to 20 pounds; hens, 10 to 14 pounds. They are a fine table bird. We rank them sixth, not because of taste but the breast meat is less developed. They are calm birds, but the hens tend to wander and can fly over most fencing easily. They are prolific egg layers and tend to go broody quickly. They are solid sitters and do well raising poults.

This breed won first place among the panel of judges at the second annual “Timeless Turkey” taste test. The qualities noted by the judges were “superior depth of flavor in both its white and dark meat.”

Bourbon Red

Bourbon Red turkeys are named for Bourbon County in Kentucky, where J. F. Barbee developed them in the late 1800s. Bronze, White Holland and Buff turkeys were bred together to develop the Bourbon Red. They were recognized by the APA in 1909.

Toms weigh about 30 pounds; hens, 12 to 14 pounds. The Bourbon Red is ranked No. 2 on our taste scale. They are curious turkeys. Anything in their area is subject to close examination by them. They are calm and often underfoot during feeding time. They’re good sitters and mothers, but also tend to go broody early.

Standard Bronze

Most people will describe Standard Bronze when asked, “What does a turkey look like?” This old breed dates to the 1800s or earlier. They were recognized by the APA in 1874.

These are large turkeys. Toms weigh about 35 pounds; hens, 20 pounds. They rank No. 5 on our taste scale but only because of the dark feathers. They don’t dress as cleanly as a white-feathered turkey. Even though the size makes some visitors nervous, Bronze turkeys are docile. They’re good layers but tend to be less broody then the others. And they tend to break eggs in the nest. They are protective mothers when raising poults.

Is one variety better than another? I would have to say, “No.” Each has its own strengths and weaknesses — even quirks. Big birds, small birds, for the table or eye candy — there is a turkey breed for everyone. Here at S and S Poultry we always say, “Everybody loves a turkey.” The more time you spend with them, the more you can see individual traits in each one.

There is a lot of misinformation about turkeys. For example, they don’t look up and drown in the rain. They are not that hard to hatch and raise, but they are sensitive to clean and proper brooding and management techniques. A little research and planning goes a long way to success. We are passionate about the heritage breeds and want to see them preserved. 

You can get more information from the American Breeds Livestock Conservancy and the Society for the Preservation of Poultry Antiquities.

Early one summer morning I was sipping coffee, looking out over the quiet garden. There, on top of the shed, was a Cooper's Hawk — a beautiful, long-tailed, orange-legged bird, not particularly common in the city, even nature-filled Seattle, where I live. I ran to get my binoculars, wishing my husband and daughter were awake to have a look. But then I stopped in my tracks. Cooper's Hawks are bird eaters, and that hawk was perched right above my innocent, six-week-old chickens! In a flash I morphed from “Urban Birder” to “Protector of the Flock.” I ran outside like Ma Ingalls, waving my arms, pink flannel pajamas dragging around my feet, and yelling "Bad hawk! Go away!" The bird threw me a cool glance before leaping into flight, and I scampered barefoot around the muddy coop yard, scooping up the girls to bring them into the kitchen for the day.

I have always been critical of farmers that bait “vermin” such as hawks, coyotes and cougars because of their perceived threat to livestock, and I still am. But since the Cooper’s Hawk incident my thinking has become more nuanced. What if I really was Ma Ingalls? What if I was raising chickens not just because I love to do it, but because I had to do it, because there was no other source of sustenance for my family? What if all this was true and I kept a shotgun over the door?
One of the motivations for modern homesteaders — urban or rural — is the deepening of our "connection to nature." The notion conjures a poetic warmth — we sow, we reap, we nurture our gardens with compost, we stand in rain, in sun, beneath clouds and moon. The seasons are made beautifully manifest from peas to pumpkin. But just as often, the brush with nature is of a much different sort.

This year, crows watched me plant my peas, then nimbly plucked the seeds up with their bills as soon as I left (evidently they could identify the exact place of each seed by the dark patch of freshly-turned earth above it).

Raccoons clawed several of the apples from my new little columnar trees. A mole lifted my young broccoli plants right out of the ground. Most horribly, one night several years ago I was feeling complacent and didn’t shut the chickens in the coop; a raccoon climbed the fence and left poor Beatrix, Iris and Opal nearly dead.
In his indispensable book, Living With Wildlife in the Pacific Northwest (which offers a great deal of insight no matter what your geographic region), Russell Link writes, "We love wild animals, or we hate them, depending on what they're doing." Our hearts lift at the robin's spring song, then in the summer they eat our strawberries.

Our modern homesteading efforts underscore the fact that our dwellings are, in large part, semi-permeable. In our everyday living, we cross into wild nature, and it crosses — distressingly sometimes — back. I truly believe that it is both a privilege and a joy to live alongside wild creatures in our urban homes. But to dwell thoughtfully alongside wildlife, we will have to tolerate some inconvenience, give up some control, allow some slight discomfort. We’ll have to call upon our own wild creativity. We’ll have to remember that when a raccoon gets a chicken, it’s our own dumb fault.

And so we put nets over the strawberries, shoo the crows, and lock the girls into their own little Chicken Guantanamo every night. We take our place in a richly more-than-human world with as much grace as we can muster, with occasional difficulty, and with an ever-deepening delight.

Pictured above: Crow-bill sized hole in the pea patch.  At least I knew right where to re-plant! Photo by Lyanda Haupt.

Lyanda Haupt is a Seattle-based author, naturalist, and backyard  homesteader/chicken keeper.  Her latest book is Crow Planet: Essential Wisdom from the Urban Wilderness and she blogs at The Tangled Nest.

In the early hours before the sun rises, especially on a rainy day in the Oregon mountains, the lucky insomniac can find a place of unspeakable, timeless bliss in his alone hours, with only a cat for company.

They used to be gods in Egypt, but in 21st Century America, they’re just companion animals and living, shedding indoor decoration. Yume (it means “dream” in Japanese) is resting on the windowsill, pushing away sleep like me. He neither writes, nor does he toil or spin, but his presence is conducive to the flow. Occasionally, we have long discussions. Recently, I discovered that we both like eggs. He suggested that I write about it.

Yesterday, I made an omelet with three eggs. The bald fact of it would seem to be no big deal, except: These eggs were one day old, with huge orange yolks, laid by free-range hens. But wait, there’s more. Those chickens live on the farm of a world-class artist. Don’t know how much you pay for eggs, but this dozen was delivered to my door for the amazingly low price of $2.50, and they’re such good eggs that I’ve taken them to local, secret restaurants and paid for my breakfasts with one dozen — green, brown and utterly organic, seething with good art and wholesomeness. These are not ordinary eggs.

By doing so, I’ve probably violated some ordinance or other, relating to public food. OK. My conscience is clear; I watched those eggs being picked from under happy, free-range, bug-eating chickens, and put into recycled cardboard cartons by the hands of a genius artist. Then I hand-carried them in a cooler to a little restaurant that is locally famed for excellent breakfasts, talked with someone, and that’s how a dozen eggs went into the food chain without government authorization. The diners who ate them probably felt better all day, without knowing why.

It is becoming fashionable to raise chickens, even in urban environments. I happen to know firsthand that the city of Forest Grove, Ore., prohibits keeping “farm livestock” within the city limits; yet, I also know outlaws who do so. And there is a movement afoot to change the rule, if it has not already been rescinded by now …

Chickens. Eggs. Manure for the garden. If there is a downside to the ownership of chickens, someone please explain it to me. In her classic book, The Egg and I, author Betty MacDonald made a hilarious case for not living on a chicken ranch. A thousand chickens is arguably too many. But everyone should have a dozen chickens. They’re far more soothing to the jangled city psyche than colorful fish swimming in a tank on a bookshelf. Hens make a soothing clucking noise, and they give you eggs on your breakfast plate that are better and fresher than Bill Gates eats, unless he also keeps chickens.

Remember Proposition 2 in California, where voters approved a new law that improved the standards under which farm animals are confined? Similar scenarios have popped up in Michigan, Arizona, Florida, Maine, Colorado and Oregon, but Ohio had other plans. Instead of ensuring that their collective voices will be heard on issues pertaining to the treatment of livestock, this week voters in Ohio opted for a constitutional measure that will place the decision making power with a 13-member board instead. The board, according to Alan Johnson of The Columbus Dispatch, "would have far-reaching powers to set standards for livestock and poultry care, food safety, supply and availability, disease prevention, farm management and animal well-being. It would have minimal legislative oversight."

Critics question what place the board has in the Ohio Constitution, along with only two other boards: the Board of Education and the Board of Workers Compensation. They also point to the hastiness of the issue's navigation through the legislature — immediately following the Humane Society of the United States' (HSUS) announcement to move forward in the state with a ballot initiative to set minimum space allotments for confined animals.

American Farm Bureau president Bob Stallman calls it a victory for farmers, but HSUS president and CEO Wayne Pacelle calls it a dirty trick on the part of agriculture giants. What do you call it?    

My backyard is looking a bit barren since I cleaned out the four raised beds and covered the bare soil with mown grass clippings and leaves. I did leave the nasturtiums that were still blooming. Their vibrant yellow and orange flowers, and large light-green leaves really stand out now that they are not overwhelmed by tall zinnias and pepper plants. In another bed, the lacy, yellow-green fronds of asparagus are still waving. The asparagus did well for the first year, putting up many stalks throughout the summer. It will be hard next year not to cut the spring spears and just let them go to seed — again! In order to develop hardy, productive asparagus crowns, it is recommended that the spears not be harvested for the first two years.

In preparation for next year’s crops, I planted some garlic cloves a few weeks ago. In September, I attended the Maine Organic Farmer’s and Gardener’s Association (MOFGA) Common Ground Fair in Unity, Maine. What a fabulous three-day event that is, with about 60,000 visitors and hundreds of vendors. I visited with a couple who raise a couple dozen kinds of garlic. They recommended I try three kinds —  all hardneck varieties — Romanian Red, Georgian Crystal and Phillips. I’m anticipating the moment next summer when I can gently dig the heads and sample the different flavors of the garlics.

My last gardening chore is to find a way to protect the lavender I planted on the south side of the house next to the foundation. It's a great location for heat loving herbs, and they have done well. But I want them to survive the winter. I’m considering cutting the lavender and other herbs back and covering them with upturned flower pots stuffed with leaves for insulation. I’ll let you know how that works.

In the meantime, it soon will be time to peruse the garden catalogs and make lists for next year’s garden. Wishing you a bountiful Thanksgiving!

Photo from Fotolia