Spring is upon us.
Our most tell-tale sign has shown itself.
The farm store has chicks.
Every year, the kids love to go in as many times as possible during the spring months just to check out the new chicks. And every year we get a few.
Our method for choosing chicks is pretty scientific. We choose which ones are the cutest, which ones are the littlest, which ones seem to peep the loudest, which ones have funny patterns in their fuzz.
Then we take them all home in a box and they set up shop under a heat lamp in one of my backrooms for several weeks. Usually until they begin to fly out of the metal tub they are in and poop on the carpet. Again, our methods are purely scientific!
We’d stopped by the farm store to get some chicken feed last Wednesday on our way to church. I didn’t realize they already had chicks or else I’d have probably just gone in by myself. We couldn’t get chicks that night, of course, because we were going to church and the chicks would get too cold. So I assured the children we would come back soon. Well, the weekend was a busy one. Monday night was booked, so after a 4-H meeting and soccer practice last night, we swung by the store for our new babies.
We secured a box and even though the sign says to please ask for assistance, we helped ourselves. We chose six new little puff balls based solely on the above criteria.
Once in the box, the children began to coddle them, telling them of their new home and how we wouldn’t be able to put them out with the big chickens yet or else they would peck them to death. They assured them everything was going to be alright and that they would like living in the house for a while.
We bought them chick starter and a big bag of pine pellets (To whomever the inventor is of such, I would like to give a big shout out because so far they seem SO much better than the shavings we usually use. The chicks aren’t able to fling them into their water!).
On the way home, the chicks enjoyed the melodious tunes of Kidz Bop 19, to which they peeped along to “Dynamite!” according to my children.
Once home, the chicks moved into their chick condo and seemed totally peaceful sleeping all stretched out under their heat lamp. They don’t know it yet, but there will be a rigorous schedule of waking, holding, and petting during the hours when the children are at home. They’d better toughen up. In fact, they had their first scheduled appointment this morning before the kids even changed out of their pajamas.
We look forward to seeing what kind of chicken our little chicks turn into and whether they turn out to be boys or girls. So far, we have two girls, but we only know this because they were marked with a huge metal clip through their wing…
Which we have to remove like a giant body piercing…
Which really grosses me out!
Judging on past luck, we can only assume the other four are roosters.
Here’s hoping your Wednesday is something to crow about!
“I know every bird in the mountains, and the creatures of the field are mine.” Psalm 50:11
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OK, hold the phone! A clip means it's a female? We bought four chicks a few weeks ago. The helpful Atwoods people were not so helpful. The chicks had just come in and were not seperated into the tubs yet. They did not know what was what so we just took four figuring we had a 50/50 chance. None.Have.Clips. Fantastic. We can't have roosters, we live on Broadway for Pete's sake. Last year all of our chicks had clips and all were females. This is bad. Heading back to Atwoods today for clipped chicks. And...I'm so jealous of your five acres. I want acres!!
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