It’s that time again. Restock the chicken house. Out with the old and in with the new. Marshall is the chicken man. This is supposed to be his project, although I have to remind him from time to time about that. We have a handful of hens already, but I think it’s time to add some “fresh blood” to the growing flock. The older hens don’t seem to want to cooperate anymore. I’ve threatened, sweet talked, and threatened some more. All to no avail. So, we headed in to town to see what we could find.
This is what we found. Cute little jerks! We only got 15 for the first run. We want to try and get some more when they get their next batch in. Marshall wants to get some all white ones. He promised that he would feed and water them plus change the paper in their little pen. We shall see…… Here we are….at our favorite farm store. The boys look like they’re up to no good. Michael has a “wicked” grin on his face, and Marshall is on the moon somewhere. We asked a lot of questions….he-hawed around….maybe some of these….no, lets get these….yea, those….that’s it for now. We will be back for more later. The poor little girl was at her wits end, I’m sure of it. Awww…..just look at that cute little “chick”. It’s trying to decide if it wants to make a dive for it or just hang on for dear life. Marshall was one “happy camper”. I made Earl hold one too. He doesn’t have anything to do with the “chicken project”. He’s too busy taking care of the bossy bovines…..and the field work…..and the cow poop…..and getting my garden plowed and tilled. When it comes to my gardening projects…..he thinks I’m a pest. Haha I finally got Michael to hold one, but he hates chickens. He wants nothing to do with them. He doesn’t look very impressed here. So much excitement. Well, if Candace were home, she’d be having a blast. She calls the chickens….bock, bock, chi-bocks. Don’t ask me where that came from. Another one of those weird dairy farm kids. Haha I love holding the little squirts. They sure want to spread their wings and fly, but they just can’t quite get the hang of it. And why does my nose look so freaking big?! Good grief! I don’t even lie, and I’m starting to look like Pinocchio. The joys of getting old. At least my “chicken” neck isn’t showing here. That scares me. I’m starting to look like a chicken already. All it would take is one squeeze and that little chick would be scrambled. It sure looks pretty cozy and comfy sitting there in those big, calloused dairyman’s hands. That’s what hard work will do to ya….unless you wear latex gloves like Mama……………………..Carol