I'd like to introduce the chickens and their saga.
But to back up--when we lived in Washington when I was a wee tot, we had a henhouse, some ducks, and some evil, evil geese. My favorite chicken, Jewel, was a white rock (I think) and put up with anything I wanted to do--chase her, pet her, hold her and squeeze her, which I did often.
When we moved to Tennessee and left her behind--I was 5--of course I took her memory with me, and my parents and I finally realized our dream of more chickens when we started Round II of Eva Living in their House. About three months ago, after a heat-induced false start, our little box of chicks got to Knoxville from Iowa, and I left work in a giddy frenzy to pick them up at the branch Post Office on Weisgarber.
They were cuter than I ever remembered chicks being--white rocks, barred rocks, black minorcas, auraucanas, New Hampshire reds and black stars, 25 little multicolored cotton-ball fluffs. My heart just wanted to EXPLODE!! But 8 weeks of living in a bathtub, slowly getting bigger, hungrier and more raucous, wore thin, and their home-on-skids, an 8x12 Mennonite pre-fab (sssh) house finally got plopped down in their yard, and Mom and Dad and me wasted no time with the run, a fancy-pants porch, perches, nestboxes and a feed-bin.
Aaaah, room to breathe.
They love turnip greens, moths and flies, catching floating feathers, and dustbaths. My dad has a favorite--the Quail Chicken, he calls her--and my mom's taken all of the barred rocks under her wing (so to speak, as she's the only one in the equation without wings.) At this point, we're almost certain they're all hens, but it may be early yet.
This is but the introduction of these ladies and their long, prosperous lives. We're glad that they're here with us, give us eggs and company and entertainment, and eventually a pot of delicious hot chicken soup at the ends of their journeys.
Welcome, chickens!
No comments:
Post a Comment