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Remember my chicken fried week? And how shocked I was that one of the twelve eggs my neighbor gave me hatched after only three days of being under one of my hens? That poor little baby was very weak when it hatched, and it didn’t make it through the night. Of the 11 that were left, one cracked and rotted and I had just about given up on the other 10.

Well, two days ago, one of those eggs actually hatched out a beautiful little peep! Last night four more hatched out. I’m tickled to death. The peeps are different breeds, colors, and fluffiness than my others. I think they are just adorable.

These chicks are mutts - and my neighbor has no clue what breeds he has. But I *think* there is some Orpington in there. Any thoughts? (Julie, my dear Chicken Crazy Cousin - I’d love to hear what you think!)

Sorry about the blurry picture of the little black one. It was dark in the brooder and I had a hard time finding her to focus on her. I wanted to include this picture though, just so you can see all of them and give me any thoughts on breeds.

This little peep is acting very lethargic. I’ve seen her walk and heaven knows her little peeper works (she’s loud), but she lays around a lot and doesn’t go to mama when mama is teaching the others to eat and drink. I’m a little concerned about her. I hope she makes it. I’ve considered bringing her into the house to care for her, but I’m resisting right now. I’ll watch her for the next day or so and see how she does. I’d really prefer to let nature take it’s course - but I’m not 100% sure I’m going to be able to do that. We’ll see…..

After these five hatched, I removed the mama and babies put them in a brooder. I put another broody hen on the remaining five eggs. I’m hoping those hatch out as well.

These sure are some cute little peeps. I know all peeps are cute, but just look at those fluffy little butts! Makes me want to just kiss those little beaks right off of them.

Thanks to all who weighed in on helping name this little girl:

Jocelyn from Physical Possum suggested Earlene of Dork, and that’s what I’ve decided to name her. Earlene isn’t a bad name, but it was Jocelyn’s comment that won me over:

I tried reading this http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courtesy_titles_in_the_United_Kingdom, and then my head exploded.

But if I’m only slightly reading this right:
“For example, the Duke of Norfolk is also the Earl of Arundel and the Lord Maltravers. His eldest son is therefore styled Earl of Arundel. Lord Arundel’s eldest son (should he sire one during his father’s lifetime) will be styled Lord Maltravers. However, only the Duke of Norfolk is actually a peer; his son Lord Arundel and his hypothetical grandson Lord Maltravers remain commoners.”

Then I vote for Duke’s daughter’s name to be “Earlene of Dork”

I am still uncertain how Jocelyn made the leap from the Duke-of-the-Earl-of-the-Lord-of-the-son-of-the-peer-of-the-grandson to Earlene of Dork, but the fact that she did made me laugh. So, Earlene of Dork it is! And if you need a chuckle, stop by and visit Jocelyn.

Eggs are hatching, and more hens are going broody. There are five new peeps in the coop right now and two more broodies. My neighbor gave me 12 eggs from his chickens to put under my broodies. I set them Wednesday night. Maybe you can imagine my utter SHOCK when I checked broodies Saturday and found a baby chick peeping in one of the nests! THREE DAYS after I put the eggs in there. Unfortunately, the chick was very weak, and didn’t make it through the night.

I had a chat with the neighbor and he was quite pleased that he managed to surprise me so much. As it turns out, he took the eggs from under one of his broodies to give me. And he has no idea if the eggs are all the same age. Apparently they are NOT. None of the others has even pipped yet. *sigh* I explained to him that there are 11 eggs left now and if others begin hatching the mama hens are only going to set on the remaining eggs for a day or two longer. They will abandon unhatched eggs after a couple of days of the first hatches because they need to get the babies out to eat and drink and learn how to be chickens. Of the remaining 11, I have no clue how many more, if any, will hatch. If they do stagger in hatch dates, I have a couple of broodies I can hopefully stick the unhatched eggs under.

Thanks for all the kind words of concern for Duke and his bumblefoot. Unfortunately, his foot does not seem to be healing. I continue to dress it each day, and on Sunday I began Pen-G antibiotic injections. Bernie is at the feed store as I type this - looking for terramycin powder for me. I’ve read that some have had success mixing it with an antibiotic ointment and packing the foot with it. I hate to put Duke through yet another cutting, but I’m not comfortable that I’ve gotten all I need to get out of that foot. We’ll try it one more time and pack it with terramycin powder. He takes his injections and foot dressings like a real trooper, although I can tell he is beginning to tire of the daily regiment I put him through. I am tiring of it as well. But we’ve got to get past this infection and I am hopeful the Pen-G and terramycin powder will kick in and do that.

As you can see, it’s been a chicken fried week here on the homestead. You know how anal I am with these chickens. You can imagine just what a tail spin the neighbors’ eggs and Duke’s foot have put me in. But it honestly pleases me that my most stressful days now concern chickens, rather than a two hour commute and action packed day at the office.

And I like chicken fried stuff.

Bee Free,
Penny

My introduction to raising chickens began with a trip to the post office to pick up a little box packed with 27 two day old chicks. I’d never owned a chicken before and as I opened that box and saw 27 iddy biddy little faces staring back at me, I was overwhelmed with a sense of responsibility knowing that each and every one of them would be dependent on me for their survival. I took that responsibility very seriously. Some of you would say I took it TOO seriously, but that’s not the point of this post.

I fretted, worried, and fussed over those babies obsessively - and well beyond babyhood. And, ok, I STILL do that today, but that’s not the point of this post either.

I’m getting to the point. I promise.

OK here’s the point. I think. After watching my broodies with these six hatches this year, it occurs to me that mama hens don’t offer just a whole lot of babying to their biddies. Those babies are expected to hit the ground running - literally. They get quick, sharp pecks when they get out of line and they get left behind if they don’t keep up. I am sometimes appalled by all this.

Two days ago one of the broody moms took her chicks into the woods and one of her babies was busy scratching and pecking in the run and missed joining the procession as mama marched the others out of the run. When the baby realized she had missed out, she began screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs. Mama began her dust bath and looked back at her chick as if to say “Well, figure out how to get your little fuzzy butt out here”. I just couldn’t hold my tongue.

“YOU were NOT raised that way! I would have NEVER left you behind like that and I would have NEVER let you cry like that. Where did you learn that type of behavior? Honestly! I raised you better than that!” But even before I finished my scolding, mama hen was rolling her eyes and settling down deeper in the dirt.

Yesterday the hatch before last was exactly 2.5 weeks old. They are still babies, for heavens sake! But as I went into the coop to tuck everyone in last night, I saw this:

No more piling into the nest to sleep at night. No more cuddling with mama and basking in her warmth. I almost grabbed every one of those babies and let them sleep with me in the bed. But after waking up with a baby goat next to him, Bernie has kinda laid down the law about who sleeps in our bed at night and, although I find him unreasonable on this subject, I figured I better not push it.

By the way, that’s Pico on the roost below the babies. Isn’t he turning into such a handsome boy? He’s a little horn dog, but he’s still darn good looking. The hen’s aren’t impressed with him though. They deny his advances as much as possible and beat the holy living tar out of him on a regular basis. Although I think a couple of them are coming around to his charm.

While I don’t always agree with their methods, these mama hens appear to be doing a great job raising these babies. I’ve offered advice and tips to them, but it falls on deaf ears. Hard headed little snots. I just don’t know where they get that from.

I hate to end this on a sad note, but earlier this week a Golden Penciled Hamburg came up missing. Bernie and I searched every inch of the yard, surrounding woods, and building on this place and could not find her. I find myself looking to see her rejoin the flock each day, but so far there has been absolutely no sign of her. It’s possible she wandered out of the fenced in yard and became a snack for a hungry animal, although these Hamburgs are extremely loud and we heard no sounds of distress the day she disappeared. I suspect she likely suffered the fate of the other three Hamburgs I’ve lost, but laid down to die somewhere we couldn’t find her.

The Golden Penciled Hamburg is a beautiful breed and they’ve added a fun dynamic to this flock, but I have no desire to add anymore. Losing four has been heartbreaking and I am fairly certain their deaths have been from genetic causes. I have three left. I hope they are around for a while.

Bee Free,
Penny

Just as my other hatches, this last hatch happened at day 20. Yesterday, all four of the eggs the broodies were setting on hatched out. The broody Hamburg has concerned me all along with regard to exactly what her mothering instinct would be. Hamburgs are notoriously NOT a broody breed, and she wasn’t the best broody I’ve had. When I took her off her nest each day, she would often stay outside for about an hour. When she went back to nest, she would get on the wrong one. I made her set on fake eggs and let the Phoenix broody hatch out the four eggs. I just didn’t trust that Hamburg.

Well, after the eggs started hatching, I put two of them under the Hamburg and she seemed to be doing great with the new babies last night. This morning, however, I found one of her babies in the far corner, and the Hamburg kept pecking the baby when it got close. I took that baby and gave it to the Phoenix, who was more than happy to have three to tend to. So the Hamburg has one baby - and I will say she is a ferociously protective mother of that little baby. Every time I try to lift her a little to look at her baby she screeches and pecks the snot out of my hand. The Phoenix broodies are protective too, but they don’t react as vicious towards me.

She is truly in heaven with that little baby. And the Phoenix is doing wonderfully with her three. The nine little 2 and 1/2 week old babies are learning to free range with their mamas and loving every second of it. And it’s getting difficult to tell the difference between the older, 4ish month old chicks and the adult chickens. They grow so fast.

It’s been raining steadily all day, but that didn’t stop Diesel and Dolly from demanding to go on their daily mail run. I put on my rain gear and we took off for the mailbox. On the way home, Diesel and Dolly decided they wanted to go off road and walk through the woods to the house. As soon as we got a few feet from the road into the woods, I began seeing the most beautiful plant - everywhere. I thought it was a fungus of some sort as it was growing out of fallen, rotting pines and on the forest floor. And it was white. A beautiful, white fungus looking flower thingy. These flowers were growing in clumps and those clumps seemed endless. They decorated the woods beautifully on such a rainy, dank day.

I didn’t have my camera with me because it was so wet and rainy, so I picked one and brought it to the house. Look at this pretty little thing:

(Forgive the background - I held it next to the window so I wouldn’t have to use a flash and inadvertently got The Big Top in the picture.)

Isn’t that pretty? Can you just imagine seeing the forest floor covered in those snow white beauties? As it turns out, that’s an Indian Pipe. And it is not a fungus. It’s a flower. This is how the flower part of it looks:

Indian Pipes are really fascinating little things. They are plants that produce no chlorophyll, which is why they are white. Although they are not a fungus, they do have a very important relationship with fungus. And apparently bumble bees love them. If you are interested in reading more about Indian Pipes, I think this website offers the most information in an understandable and succinct fashion.

Oh! Yesterday was Bernie’s birthday. I asked him how it feels to be a year older and he replied “I’m not a year older. I’m just another day older.” Well, according to my math that’s A LOT of days!

Happy Birthday, Honey. I love you.

Bee Free,
Penny

I let the two broody moms out of their brooder pens with their babies today. I really need to get them out of the brooders so I can put the next two new mamas in them. They are due to hatch their babies out Wednesday.

As usual, these two broody moms just can not get along. They immediately launched into a brawl. I sat out there with them for a while and separated them several times, and eventually Broody1 took her chicks into the chicken run and things seemed to settle. Before too long, Broody2 had her chicks in the run as well. Everyone seems to be getting along just fine now - even if the two broody moms both now have bruised eyes.

Against my wishes, Broody1 has already taken her chicks into the woods, next to the coop. I really worry about them being out there, but they don’t pay any attention to what I want.

They are still all in the woods as I type this. Broody2 has her chicks in the chicken run.

Even though the chicken coop is right next to the woods, the sun shines on it all day long. I normally don’t worry too much about that. In the winter, the sun heats the coop nicely. And in the summer, the chickens spend most of their time in the woods - or under Bernie’s pole barn next to his barn shed. That’s a constant source of annoyance for Bernie, by the way. But it makes the chickens happy, and happy chickens makes me happy, so Bernie doesn’t complain too much. Even if they have scratched out holes the size of the grand canyon under his boat, behind his tractors, and around each support pole to dust bathe in.

At any rate, with broodies living in the coop right now, and new babies staying in there as well, I started getting a little concerned about the sun beating right on the coop all day and raising the temperature inside the chicken coop. I decided to tarp over the shrimp net I have covering the chicken run. Not only would that shade the coop a great deal, but it would keep the chicken run from getting so muddy in the rain. So this morning, Bernie helped me secure the tarp over the shrimp net. It now looks like the Big Top Circus resides in our yard.

I know it looks awful - but the coop and chicken yard are mostly shaded all day long now. The chickens seem to like it. Bernie seems to hate it. And I can overlook it since it makes my chickens more comfortable. We’ll take it down in late fall so that the coop will get sun in colder weather and the weight of the ice and snow doesn’t pull the shrimp net and tarp down.

Something I meant to mention earlier about this last hatch is that four of the eggs I put under the broodies were eggs I had stored in the refrigerator from 1 - 3 days before hand. I had heard that refrigerated, fertile eggs will hatch out just fine, and I wanted to experiment with it myself. So I opened one of the egg cartons in the refrigerator, randomly pulled out four eggs, marked them with a different colored pen than the other eggs I gave the broodies, and then put the refrigerated eggs under those broodies. And guess what? All four of those refrigerated eggs hatched just fine. I share this with you in case you have chickens and happen to lose a favorite hen. If you recognize her eggs and have some in the refrigerator, you can take them from the refrigerator and put them under a broody or in an incubator and hatch out her offspring. Be sure to bring the eggs to room temperature before placing them under a broody or in the bator. Otherwise moisture can collect on the inside of the egg and possibly mess up the hatch.

Bobby Lee is still enjoying his Reign of Terror. He really torments Duke something fierce. In all fairness, Duke used to really torment Bobby Lee though. I guess Bobby Lee figures turn about is fair play. None the less, Duke still participates in keeping the flock in line, much to Bobby Lee’s consternation. Pico regularly tries to get frisky with the older hens, and Duke just will not stand by and watch that happen. Neither will Duke allow the hens to fight. While Bobby Lee does seem to be extremely alert and watchful over the girls, he can not, quite frankly, hold a candle to Duke. Maybe he’ll grow into the role.

Bobby Lee is such a good looking boy.

And Duke still has his rugged handsomeness.

It occurs to me that it is a bit like a circus around here with all these crazy chickens. Maybe naming the tarped over chicken run The Big Top isn’t such a bad idea.

Bee Free

We had quite a bit of excitement here on the homestead yesterday. As you know from my last post, we have two broody moms with five chicks between them. Well, yesterday afternoon I got to thinking that the nest boxes are up about two feet from the ground. It’s not unusual for mama hens to begin taking their babies out of the next within the first three or four days of their lives. I wasn’t concerned about the chicks getting out of the nest, I was concerned that once they did, they would not be able to get back into the nest. So I decided to move both broody moms and their chicks onto the floor of the coop, underneath the nest boxes. And move them, I did.

I sat with the broods for a while and everything went along just fine. Broody1 just sat in a corner with her two little little chicks cheeping happily beneath her. Broody2 brought her three chicks out into the middle of the coop and started teaching them to peck and eat. A couple of hens wandered in and checked out the chicks, and then moved on to the nest boxes. Everything was going better than I had hoped for. I went inside and over the next couple of hours I went back out to the coop about every 15 minutes to check on the situation. So far, so good.

After two hours, however, things changed. Swiftly and dramatically. I opened the front door to walk toward the coop and I immediately knew something was wrong. I could hear baby chicks peeping like crazy, and I could see a huge plume of dust and feathers flying out of the chicken door. I ran to the coop and opened door, and then stood there with my mouth open for a full minute. My two sweet, gentle, lovely little mama hens were in the middle of what looked like a bar room brawl. They were a screeching, screaming, clawing, pecking ball of feathers in the middle of the coop. I could not believe it. I quickly ran in and tried to separate them, and it wasn’t easy. Each time I would get them apart, they would fly back at each other and start fighting all over again. I finally managed to pick one up and as I stood, she had the other in her mouth by the neck. It was awful. I eventually got them apart and put each back in the nests they hatched their broods in. Then I looked around for the biddies. There were two. I grabbed them and put one in each nest box with a mama. I searched all over coop and there was not a sign of another biddy. I began to panic. I ran outside, laid on the ground and looked underneath the coop. The bottom of the coop is covered with chicken wire, but a one day old biddy could very easily fit between the wire. I laid there for a while, desperately searching for a sign of a biddy, but I could see nothing. And I could hear nothing. No peep, chirp, or scurrying. Nothing. I walked all through the woods by the coop searching for them. Nothing. I layed on the ground next to the garden shed and looked underneath it. Nothing.

Bernie was not home during all this. He had gone in to town to run some errands. By the time he returned, I was in the middle of a full blown nervous breakdown. I did my best to explain what had happened, but judging from the confused look on his face, I’m certain I was making no sense at all. I was standing there shaking like a leaf and mumbling something like “It’s hopeless. Hopeless! They’re gone. Gone forever.” when he said “Honey, they couldn’t have just disappeared. Let’s go outside and look together”.

We went into the coop and looked around. Nothing. We went outside and looked under the coop. Nothing. We walked through the woods searching everywhere. Nothing. And just when I began mumbling about the biddies being gone forever again, we heard a cheep. And then another. And it was coming from underneath the coop! I’m going to fore go the details on this. Suffice it to say that 15 minutes and a lot of running around chasing biddies later, we had the three escaped biddies safely tucked in with their mothers.

Two hours later I had built the pen that will house these mamas and babies for the next couple of weeks:

This is actually two pens - separated by more wire between them. Each is about 4′ X 4′. As soon as it was finished, I placed the mamas and their babies in them. And they seem very happy.

Broody1 got the worst damage during the brawl with Broody2. But in Broody1’s defense, she had been sitting on a nest for six weeks and hadn’t been eating for several days. She was very weak. Just look at her poor bruised eye and damaged comb:

Poor little thing. Today is the first day she has accepted food from me and eaten in many days. I’m really hoping she’ll start getting back to her old self soon. It was a little cool today, and she has kept the babies tucked up tightly underneath her.

Broody2 is doing just fine. She eats and drinks and calls the babies out to learn to peck and eat fairly regularly. I had a hard time getting pictures of her babies, but I managed to get this one (there’s one behind her, but you can’t see much of her):

Awwww. That is just adorable. This is one of the two White Faced Black Spanish mixes that hatched. In fact, I’m fairly certain this one is mixed with Bobby Lee, the Phoenix - notice the darker legs. The other is obviously mixed with Duke, a Silver Gray Dorking. She has orange legs and five toes - another trait of the Dorking.

I was not there when the fight between these two mamas started, but I am certain it had something to do with the babies. I have a friend that says mama hens fight like ninjas over their babies. Well, until you see it, you can’t imagine how accurate that description really is. I hope to never see it again.

I’ve written way more about this than I had planned, or probably should have. If you’re still with me at this point, please allow me to offer you some advice. If you plan to have chickens, read everything you can read about raising them and issues that can occur while you’re doing it. Talk to everyone you know that has chickens and ask them what their experiences have been. And then get your chickens and know that you will be able to write your own book when it’s all said and done. No book and no one can prepare you for everything in your future with chickens. Everyone is different. Every flock is different. They will have a lot in common but trust me, those little chickens will throw you a curve ball more than once. And at the end of the day, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bee Free,

Penny

What a weekend. I’m simply exhausted.

Last night I checked my two broodies to see if anyone layed an egg in their nests that they tucked up underneath them. I noticed that the second broody (Broody 2) that had five eggs under her had an egg with a crack in it. My first thought was “Oh, no. Someone pecked that egg.” But then I heard a little “cheep, cheep” and I realized that an egg had pipped! This morning I awoke to this:

Now just how dad gum cute is that???? It was all I could do not to kiss that baby chick’s wings right off of her. Later in the day, I found this:

Be still my heart. I seriously had the shakes just looking at those babies and forcing myself not to pick them up and kiss their beaks slap off. Mama hen actually hatched one more, for a total of three. But I could not get a picture of all of them together tonight. She is just about sick and tired of me poking around snapping pictures tonight.

Naturally, I had my network going during all this excitement. Mama and Cousin Julie suggested I take a pipping egg and give it to Broody 1 to hatch.  But I was worried. Broody 1,is the first hen I had that went broody. She had been sitting on a dud egg for about six weeks. And today was the first day she had gotten off of that egg for about an hour. She desperately wanted to hatch an egg. So I decided to take a chance and I put an egg that had pipped underneath her. And here she is a few hours later - look at the lower bottom portion of this picture:

I can’t tell you how happy Broody 1 is with that little peep. She actually pecked me when I lifted her to take that picture of her baby. Broody 1 is extremely sweet and never pecks - apparently unless she has a baby to protect. That other egg in that picture is the last of the eggs that were under Broody 2. It had pipped, so I gave it to Broody 1. Hopefully by tomorrow morning Broody 1 will be happily caring for two baby chicks, and Broody 2 will be happily caring for her three chicks.

Lordy, I do love my chickens.

We started on the greenhouse this weekend. Let me be the first to tell you, this job definitely takes at least two people. No doubt about it. We got the ground leveled and the front and back portion of the greenhouse put together. We still have two sides and the roof to go. I’ll post pictures of the progress next week. Right now I’m simply pooped from working on the greenhouse, worrying about hatching little chicks, and trying to keep up with puppies during all of it.

I’ve left the little biddies alone today. I’ve only disturbed them to take pictures. But tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow every one of those biddies gets picked up and kissed. I know some people will swear you should leave baby chicks alone and not touch them, but let me tell you that I kissed every single one of the 27 one day old chicks I started with and I only lost five of them. And I’d like to think those five died from causes other than my kisses. I’d also like to think the 22 that survived are stronger as a result of my kisses. These five little biddies are going to find out. Tomorrow they’re getting kisses. And lots of them.

Bee Free,

Penny

Our wild raspberries are really starting to come in. They’ve got a few more days before the majority ripen up, but seeing a handful of ripe raspberries was enough to make us risk the brambles we had to wade through to pick them. We only ended up with about 1/2 a pound, and I decided to make a jar of Raspberry Jam out of them. Bernie doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he can’t resist many things made of fruit. He likes to put his jam over a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Yes, I know that sounds weird, but honestly, you should try it. It’s wonderful!

So for those of you with berries that always wanted to know how to make jam, I’m going to share the recipe for the most simple jar of jam you will ever make.

Ingredients:
1/2 pound Berries
1 cup of Sugar

Pour the sugar over the berries and gently stir the mixture. Let it sit for about 15 minutes or so. Then heat the whole thing on low heat until the sugar melts, stirring the entire time. Once it gets soupy, turn your heat up to high and stir as it boils for about 5 minutes - or until it gets thick. Turn the heat off and pour your jam into a clean, sterile jar.

Now you have berry jam. There are several ways to make jam, but this is probably the easiest. If you have a lot of berries, you may want to use a recipe that adds pectin to reduce the amount of time you spend over the stove. But for a small amount, it will only take you 5 minutes or so. 1/2 pound of berries makes less than 1 pint of jam, so I didn’t mess around with canning it since that small amount won’t last long around here. Several of you wrote that you would like to see a webpage on the Back to Basic Living website on the basics of canning, and I will start working on that in the next week or two, as more berries come in. I typically water bath can all of my fruit and sometimes tomatoes, and pressure can anything else.

Here’s a picture of the jam over a bowl of ice cream:

I have to tell you, I almost didn’t post that picture. It reminds me of bird poop over ice cream. I think it’s all the seeds. If you are really turned off by seeds in your jam, you can smoosh the berries through a sieve first. But I’m going to warn you - it’s going to take a lot more berries that way. There is very little fruit around each of those little seeds. But it’s your choice. Personally, I can get past the bird poop looking jam…..

The chicks are doing great. They were five weeks old yesterday. Friday afternoon Bernie and I let them out in the chicken yard for the evening. They loved it. They ran around eating everything they could get their little beaks on. They flew and ran and played and challenged each other. It was really a hoot watching them. It took me a while to get them all inside as darkness was settling, but it was worth it.

This weekend I let them out in the chicken yard at 6:30 each morning. They are really loving being outside. We check on them every few minutes, and they are doing fine. They pretty much ignore me when I go into the chicken yard to sit with them, but I just chalk it up to the excitement of being outside. To compensate, I don’t let them out in the mornings until they eat out of my hands, jump on me, and act like they still love me. Then I open their little chicken door and they go outside and act like I have cooties.

They are really getting big and starting to look like miniature chickens. Bernie says my chickens are way prettier than any five week old chickens he’s ever seen. I absolutely agree with him. Duke is starting to cluck already. I love the little peep-peep noises they make, but the clucking is pretty exciting. Here’s a picture of Duke - not a great one because I chopped off his beak in the picture, but it really shows off his comb and his developing waddles, and his size compared to the Silver Leghorn he’s standing next to:

Dad gum, that’s a good looking boy! Here’s a picture of the only other rooster I think (*hope*) we have. His name is Bobby Lee. He’s a Phoenix and, although not as developed as Duke, quite handsome in his own right:

Look at that boy strutting around. I sure am proud to have such good looking boys. I really hope they get along and stay sweet. I just can’t bare to think of one of them ending up on the table. I’ve tried to be delicate and casually mention that to both of them on a couple of occasions. Let’s hope they are listening.

Not only are the boys good looking, but the girls are so pretty now. They’ve filled out and feathered out and just fill me with pride. I put several new pictures of the chicks up on the Back to Basic Living website.

Oh - and I finally learned to tell the Phoenix’s from the Silver Leghorn’s! The Phoenix’s have slate colored legs, and the Silver Leghorn’s have yellow legs. It took an awful lot of googling to figure that out! I sure am relieved though. I don’t know why, but it is, for some reason, important to me.

The chicks are great. Bernie and I are great. Elvis and Priscilla are tolerating all the greatness. Life is good on the homestead.

Bee Free,
Penny

OK, for those of you who have requested more pictures of my little beauties, I’m including several in this post. But you are going to have to put up with my narrative first. No scrolling down ahead of the class!

Last night Bernie set up his 12X12 pavilion-screened-in-tent-thingy for me so I could take my chicks outside to play in a protected area. It doesn’t have a floor, so the chicks could enjoy the ground and the grass. We secured the sides with bricks so they couldn’t slip underneath one of them and force us to flail around the yard trying to catch them.

So this afternoon after I logged off from work, I grabbed a box with a lid and captured 23 birds for transport to the great, wild outside. We won’t discuss the whole capturing portion of this. Suffice it to say I had to stand on my head to get chicks out of the far corners of the brooder, and I only had to chase one escaped bird around the spare room, but I emerged from the house, headed to the tent thingy, sweaty and out of breath, with 23 birds in a box in tow. Bernie awaited us on a lawn chair in the tent thingy.

When we first let them out, they were terrified and huddled around me and refused to venture. Eventually, they started pecking my toes and crawling on me. Here’s a picture of two of the girls that crawled into my hand:

After a short while, they discovered Bernie’s boots and headed over to him:

One of the White Faced Black Spanish chicks just couldn’t stand all of Bernie’s cuteness from afar and actually spread her little wings and flew up onto his lap:

We decided to name this one Amelia - after Amelia Earhart.

The chicks really seemed to enjoy being outside. They ran around pecking at everything they saw, ate everything they could get their little beaks on, took a sun bath or two, and rolled around in the grass like they were trying to take dirt baths. I’m not sure who enjoyed it more - the chicks, or me and Bernie.

After about two hours, the chicks started collecting at the box they came out in. We quickly realized they were probably ready to go back inside. Look at the little chick peeking out of the hole on the side. I am certain that looks says “Hello? We’re loaded up and ready to go over here!”

I honestly think they were tired and ready to go back to the brooder. It was pretty easy to gather them up and put them in the box.

I know everyone that has chickens thinks their chickens are the cutest things in the world. But can you honestly tell me, after looking at these pictures, that my little biddies don’t just surpass every definition of cuteness??? And you just don’t know sweet until you meet my girls. Lordy, if they don’t just make you want to kiss the feathers right off them…..

And if you didn’t get your full capacity of cuteness for the day, you can take a look at the additional pictures I put on the Back to Basic Living website.

I warned you when I ordered these chicks that I would be boring you to death with pictures of them. If nothing else, I am a woman of my word…..

Bee Free,
Penny