All I Know about Chicks
Sorry to disappoint, but I mean the cute feathered bird.
Last week, just as we were celebrating Valentines, we got a shipment of baby chicks. (shipment of chicks? that sounds like they came via UPS, which is not the case) This happens about twice a year, and so for a week we eat, breath and sleep chicks, until they are big enough to take care of themselves.
See? Here they are, I know they’re soo cute you all just want to hop right on over to our place to see for yourselves.
Now, here are the rows. Lots and lots of cages filled with chicks. When I was young, I thought these rows would never end, they’re so long. Young was like three years ago. I still think the rows are too long.
That cart is called “The Feed Cart”. We ooze creativity around this place. And that little thing that Elena is standing on? I call it “The Stand.” The stuff Brandt is sitting on? It’s “The Feed”. Gene is dumping feed into each cage, which is what we do every day until the chicks can take care of themselves. That’s “Becoming of Age”. It usually happens by the time they are four days old.
Sitting on the Feed Cart is like being in your very own portable sandbox.
Except it is dustier. And flakier. And smellier.
A little feed dosen’t hurts anybody.
Here I am doing it all by myself for about two minutes, which drug on for an eternity, while Gene was busily fixing a water leak. I always jump at the chance to wear a bandana and Gene’s Strober Building Supply T-shirt.
Myth: Farm girls always wear bandanas.
Fact: Just girls who think it makes them more like a true-blue farmer.
So if you stop by and you can’t find me, I’m probably up in the chicken house.
Gene says that was a cheesy way to end the post. So goodbye and goodnight.