I went into farming for the love of it. The magic of growing food from seed to something edible and nutritious. The sheer wonder of taking a chicken egg and turning it into a chicken. I find farming to be spiritual. How else can one describe the miracle of life that happens right in front of ones eyes?
When I finally got the power situation fixed, we slipped back into the routine of the incubator. The salesman who sold me the incubator had assured me that even a toddler could operate it. Chicken eggs hatch after 18 to 21 days of incubating. On day 21, my first chick hatched. Such joy! I almost sung her (him?) a welcome to the world lullaby.
Ultimately, only 6 chicks hatched. It turns out the idiot proof machine required a little more skill than was mentioned. Because we raise free range chicken, I had assumed that the eggs were fertilized, given the constant hen chasing done by the resident roosters every evening. Turns out we had tried to incubate unfertilized eggs. How was I supposed to know that? Then I vaguely remembered a call I had had with the salesman where he had described how to check whether an egg was fertilized. Well! New lesson learnt. Eggs cannot hatch if they are not fertilized. Check!
The 6 chicks all survived. They are now active, pesky chicks with an appetite and attitude to match. I wonder how different their personalities will be to those raised by mother hens instead of mother humans.