Our Cast of Characters
The Birds
We chose specific breeds for our flocks, based on the quality and color of their eggs and for their personalities.
Our birds free range in a small organic pasture with access to greens, organic vegetables, and fruit. Free range, organic eggs are lower in cholesterol and higher in protein & nutrients. You can’t beat the flavor of a fresh egg from a happy, healthy hen.
Polish are a unique breed of chicken, with huge bouffant crests of feathers on their heads. When ours were still 2-day old chicks going through our ‘garage program’, you could already tell that to them everything was a party. Party around the water dish when you get fresh water; party around the food dish, too. And definitely, party when you’re running around the yard shaking your feather-doo. These funny, beautiful birds lay pointed, white eggs.
Colonel Sanders is a cross between a Black Copper Maran from Bev Davis’ line and a green egg layer. Thus he carries the gene to produce prized olive-green eggs.
Our newest rooster, Chunky Boy, is a French Black Copper Marans (FCBM) which are bluish black birds with feathered feet, orange eyes and lay very dark chocolate-brown eggs. They originated from the port town of Marans, in western France, and are prized by bakers for the taste & quality of their eggs. The yolks stand firm and upright. According to Ian Fleming, it was the only egg which James Bond would eat. They are Ken’s favorite, too.
This is our gold feathered Polish rooster, Pocahontas (which isn’t typically a male name but suits him as he is fierce.) He was known for his dramatic flair.
To the right is our beloved Polish rooster, Zebra who passed away this winter. He joins our other Polish hens, Audrey Fandango, Susie Q., Little Susie, and Dina Ross. Like them, he was animated and mischievous, and also a real drama queen who loved the sound of his own crow and being the king of whatever part of the yard he had claimed for the day. We miss hearing his constant talking around the run and it isn’t the same without him.
Tommy
One day in mid-October I heard a strange sound that seemed to come from the breezeway area. I thought one of the Twisted Kittys had thrown up a fur ball. I ran out to look but no one was there and there was no vomit on the floor. I shrugged it off as a mistake. A few minutes later I heard the strange sound again. Through the windows of my downstairs bedroom, I saw a prehistoric head staring at me. It was bald and pink, with red and blue splashes. Running to look out the window I saw a huge blue-gray turkey. He was walking back and forth looking through the windows and gobbling. Over the next two weeks, he stayed close to the house, sat on the stoop, and watched the cats follow me across the kitchen and called us to come out and visit him. It was a turkey-hunting season in Maine. Fearing that he would wander off and get a shot I checked with our feed store about proper food. They instructed me to feed him the breeder’s grain I was feeding the chickens. I sent a video to the Game Warden and then also called the Animal Control Officer about what to do. I followed their instructions for finding his potential owner, even traveling much further afield than they recommended. But, it was to no avail. No one would claim him or own up to having owned him. And then, all of a sudden, it was too late. We realized that he had escaped the hunters and someone’s Thanksgiving table and that he had chosen us.
Tommy had been watching us from the woods for about 10 days before revealing himself. (My husband had been hearing him in the woods around our house for that long.) We think he was watching us herd the chickens across the lawns and the Guinea Hens had been alarming at something in the woods. First, he moved in with the chickens and then he got his own house. Tommy is a rare, heritage blue slate turkey who will never lay an egg or pay his own way, but he has a home with people who love him. He has taken it upon himself to manage the roosters and breaks up any fights.
I’m still amazed at the rush of emotions, which cause his head to flush red and blue. The little cowlick of black hair on his head and the big black sprout of feathers that look like a beard that protrudes from his chest. When he sees me looking at him out the kitchen window he still catches himself and fans his tail and begins to strut. When I go out to feed the hens he follows me closely, walking like a person with a plate balanced on his head. When he wants to be particularly impressive he drags the tips of his wings on the ground to make a gravely noise and thumps deep inside of himself. Such a showoff! Such a boy!
Here on the Goronson Farm, our poultry are part of our family.
The Farm Cats
Our 4 boys, called the Twisted Kittys, were rescued from an adoption agency back in 2007. You would never know that they were born on the same day and from the same mother. Although two of our original Twisted Kittys have passed on, they remain on the farm in spirit buried in a beautiful garden in the back.
Kissy G (above) All of our boys have beautiful, large eyes that one farmhand said gives them an almost human-like quality.
Tiger (left) modeling our antique jewelry to the side. If you look through our vintage store, look out for more pics of him and Silhouette modeling!
Punkinetti enjoying the fresh autumn air in 2022, a couple months before his passing in January 2023
Our most recent addition to the family and farm has been our kitten, Silhouette. He is a tiny terror but also an undeniable love bug who loves to sit atop my shoulder or curl up in Ken’s lap by the wood stove at night.
