Monday, June 29, 2009

Blueberries for Bugg

Wow, what a beautiful morning. Handy Man and I headed out at 7 to Bryant's Bluberries for our yearly stash of delectable blue jewels. The weather was perfect and the Bluerays were abundant. In two hours, we picked twenty-five pounds, which should be enough to hold Bugg and I over for a few weeks. She's the only person I know who loves them as much as I do. I did hold back a few for the freezer and I'll share some with Rae and Mom. I can't wait to see Missy Bugg dig in.
I love to listen to little ones when they talk and play. Bean, Bugg and I were having lunch recently and had two chip choices, Pringles and another kind. Bean tried the "another kind" and said, "I like those, but I like wrinkles better." Then Bugg bit down on something and cried. Bean exclaimed, "Don't worry, she does that all the time. Either she's faking or she's getting in a new boulder." Wrinkles, boulders, Pappy Cakes, I love it.
We hurried home from picking this morning to let the chickie girls out. They are getting so big and change from morning to night and night to morning with new feathers and new colors. I'm amazed at how they clear out all the vegetation in the chicken tractor by the afternoon. They love my homemade bread and still devour the Japanese Beetles. I'm hearing new chickie noises that sound like a little soft cluck instead of just peeping.
Arwen made the move from in the house puppy to Chicken Protector with relative ease. Me, not so much. God love that Handy Man of mine, he sat up half the night reading in the pen watching Arwen and checking on the chickie girls the first night. Last night he checked them three times before he came to bed. I put a couple of tree limbs in the brooder and he says they look so cute all lined up, roosting for the night.
I think he's more worried about me worrying about them. He said Arwen took her patrol role very seriously and woofed and watched after every noise she heard. Now if we can convince her that chickie girls aren't puppy toys, we'll be doing good.
The chickie girls will be out for playdate on Wednesday, so come on over and check them out.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Happy Birthday to Pete

Pete enjoyed his birthday dinner, cake and visitors

Kaye and Pete's newest grand boy held by Auntie Susie

Kaye sat up for a few minutes and smooched on the boy

Missie Linee Girl with her Poppy

Kaye is about the same today. If she doesn't have phenergan in her system, then she is sick.
She enjoyed the visit with the kids. She kept saying, "They are so big." I think Pete has decided to take her home.

Bubbles, Bubbles, Everywhere

Color Coordinated Antebellie

Don't forget, blow, don't suck-yucck.

Blow Miss Bugg.

My little over the top Oh Henry!

Wow, this is pretty Bean.

Nice job Nick.

Syd transfering bubbles to the paper

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Science on the Chicken Farm

It is hard to make an ice sculpture with this slippery stuff, but if you add a sprinkle of salt, guess what happens?

Will the oil float on the water or sink? Bean guessed right as Syd and Bugg helped Jeanne pour on the oil.

Dancing Raisins anyone? Bugg was most interested in this project. Now it "fwoats," then it sinks.

Antebellie is also quite intrigued.

I get it, you squish all the juice out of the lemon.

Oh Henry and Bean concentrating on their lemon shake-up in a bag. Add a straw and enjoy!

It was a fun day in the very hot sun for making great hypotheses and theories about cool stuff.
Funny colored bubble pictures tomorrow.

The chickens spent the day outside yesterday and will today if there is no rain. We plan to move them to the coop this weekend.
Hurrah- No pasty butts, not one, none at all.
A first- a good use for a Japanese Beetle- who'd a thought.
The chickie girls love them and I love providing them. Nothing pleased me more than removing their little munchy mouths off my once beautiful rose and tossing them into the chick pen. The girls are hysterical to watch. So snatchy and grabby. They have crazy big chickie feathers coming in all over and that sweet little downy fluff is falling out everywhere.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Aparently Kaye got very upset at dialysis and then very sick, so Pete took her on to the hospital. No news as yet.

nig·ma (-n g m) n. 1. One that is puzzling, ambiguous, or inexplicable. 2. A perplexing speech or text; a riddle.
Kaye is an enigma. Most people who only see her once a week or less say that she is really making progress. There are moments that appears to be so, but then you go two steps forward and three steps back, all the time, all the time.
They stopped the continuous feeds, as she can now swallow soft foods, so she gets bolus feeds three to four times a day. That should be great news. We'd love to have her off the stomach tube altogether. The problem, she is constantly nauseous to the point of vomiting, or dry heaves. Yesterday, the nurse begged, pleaded and coerced her into going to physical therapy. Once there, she actually followed through for almost an hour. Simple stuff, but still, building strength. Then, when I got there last night, she had already had three doses of phenergan yesterday. So it's the lay down, sleep 8 minutes, sit up. Now that she talks more she is ever asking you to call someone to get her the medicine she needs. Maybe a third of the time, I get some of what she is trying to tell me, enough to give her an answer that is satisfactory. We are ever asking her to eat, because if she would eat, she wouldn't have to have the bolus feedings, but she won't eat. Between my visits Friday, Sunday and Tuesday, I managed to get three sips of tea in her. We are all so frustrated, we're about beside ourselves. Anyway, she will have an ultrasound this week and rule out gallbladder. They keep changing meds and feeding, so we'll try to get to the bottom of it.
I'm afraid the healthcare system is absolutely going to drive Pete mad. I feel so awful for him.
It looks like for him to get the physical therapy and mental therapy she needs, he's going to have to take her home and then take her to the best places himself. This is the current advice he has been given. How he is going to do all that with dialysis, is beyond me. Lord help him, and all of us too, mostly my poor sister.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Happy Father's Day

Frog Nursery

Dee-wish-us Pappy Cakes

Obstacle course in the chicken tractor

Nice job Mr. Handy Man -Happy Father's Day from all your chickens!

Eventhough it's been nine years since Daddy's been gone, there is never a Father's Day that I don't feel a wee bit out of sorts. Most of the time, I don't think about it, but today I will reflect on being fatherless, not for long, or in a boo, hoo sort of way, just acknowledge it. Actually, you might say I was fatherless a long time, then again, not really. My dad had a stroke when I was eleven and became the family's baby. Perhaps toddler would better describe it. He could see, though not well, hear, walk and talk, but lost his short term memory and never worked again. He didn't read, or have a hobby, he was just there, and all of our lives sort of circled around him and Mom. He loved my kids, and was always happy to come to my house and sit on the front porch a spell, otherwise he was quite cantankerous, so my Mom came to visit a lot. After the stroke, they told us to expect him to live seven years, as the potent meds he was on would eventually kill him. He lived twenty-nine years, and though he couldn't parent in the typical way, I did surely miss him when he was gone, and miss him still. I would far rather miss him here and look forward to seeing him again one day, then for him to have stayed, as he was so very sick at the end.
The "then again, not really," part refers to a father figure I've had these many years. I was eight when Kaye met Pete, so when Daddy's stroke forced him to bail out of parenting, Pete stepped in. Pete got me through algebra, and listened to all my grief and woe about my girlfriends and guy friends, doctored my mosquito bites, and gave me what for when I was up to no good. His constant love and support kept me from seeking it the wrong way in places I shouldn't in my teen years and I thank God for him.
People aspire to a lot of things. Growing up, I wanted to be a mom and a teacher, mostly a mom though. Thankfully, I thought it would be a good idea for my kidlets to have a dad, so that came first. Again, God was certainly merciful to me in the area of daddy picking. Handy Man Pappy is a loving and helpful dad to his kids. He is proof that you can learn to father differently then you were fathered. Hardly a week passes that one, if not all three of the kiddos, needs help with their car, hanging a door, replacing a part and on and on. He is always there for them. The other night, I had to be gone for the third night in a row, and I told Handy Man to call some friends and go out please, don't stay home by yourself. He called his boys.
Handy Man will eat whatever I put in front of him, but he really likes Little Debbie Snack Cakes.
When Miss Bugg was a baby and growing up, she thought her Pap could do no wrong and wouldn't look at any of the rest of us if he was present. Since he ate those little cakes, she was going to share them and they became "Pappy Cakes." Now, that's their little joke, her sneaking into Pap's cakes.
Later, after I got the mom and teacher all done, I dreamed of having chickens and goats. I wanted my grandchildren to know and understand where their food comes from. Once again, thanks to Handy Man, we have chicks. How differently my children and grandchildren will think of fathers and grandfathers. How thankful I am.

Of course, I know I have never been and will never be fatherless, as I am confident in the ever present God I serve.

The chicks seems none the worse for wear after their outing yesterday. There is still one pasty butt.
And, if I didn't have enough nursery animals, we're also raising frogs. Handy Man's sister had a plague of tadpoles in the water on her pool cover. Handy Man brought a cooler full of tadpoles to put in the creek. I saved out a dozen or so, because, heaven forbid, I'd ever let a learning opportunity go by for the grands. It is neat, because they are at all stages, some have already hopped away.

Call or hug someone who's been a good father figure to you today.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Summer Love

Umm, I think Buttercup likes the lid and cup better than the chick.

Bean wants to pose with all the chickies.

Little Miss Blue-eyed Buttercup

The Trunchbull and Little Red Hen-both two weeks old.

I just returned from the local Farmer's Market. Let me just say, I love Farmer's Markets. A local chef was cooking food donated from vendors. So simple really, grilled red cabbage and pork loin tossed in a dash of a simple vinegar, oil, sugar dressing-divine. My mother-in-law loves swiss chard, but hasn't been able to find it in the grocery, so I was able to pick up some for her. For our culinary delights, I scooped up peas, purple and green cabbage, beets, onions and some no-hormone, grass grazed meat. The sausage is now in the pan, smelling fabulous and Handy Man will be thrilled to have a late breakfast for lunch after Saturday work. I stepped out my door to pick a little fresh sage to add to the sausage. I love summer.

Do any of you support your local farmers?

Only two pasty bottoms in Chickville today. The bigger ones are getting wild and crazy and flying around everywhere as soon as I take the lid off the brooder. Today is the big day when they go out in the Chicken Tractor. It is certainly warm enough-yucck! I'm surprised at the difference in growth rate amongst the chickies. Look at the difference in Little Red Hen and The Trunchbull.

I had all my little gramerlings yesterday. Buttercup, who is just nine months old tomorrow, was able to join us. She isn't so sure about the chicks, but thinks she might like to grab one. She is so funny with Bugg. I would so love to know what she's thinking. She had been playing with Bean and I, when Bugg stumbled, still sleepy from napping, onto the play scene. Buttercup immediately crawls over to her and is babbling a mile a minute, grabs her curls, pulls up to Bugg's face, all excited like she's about to eat her. I wonder if she thinks Bugg is a big doll. Bugg certainly looks like a big dolly. We painted, played in water, petted chickies, colored, sang all our favorite songs while swinging, you know, the usual.

Yesterday, I was looking through some old pictures and came across a picture I made of Kaye and her family at her daughter's wedding rehearsal. It's easy sometimes for me to forget that Kaye, I am so wrapped up in the now Kaye. Most surprising to me were her eyes in the wedding photo that just look like eyes, smiling eyes. To me, she is all eyes now-confused eyes, hurt eyes, scared eyes, and now and again, the longed for understanding eyes. She was just pitiful last night. She is always whupped after dialysis, but she never slept more than five minutes on my 5-12 pm shift. She was sick at her stomach and up and down, up and down. On a positive note, she talks a lot and some of it I get. Even when I understand what she says, it isn't always about something real. Last night she wanted me to go check the doors at the bank, and she is not happy when I don't mind her ( some things haven't changed at all-ha).

I took Bean and Bugg with me to the nursing home yesterday. When we pulled up 2 yr old Bugg said, "This is a nurse house?" When we got inside she was a little shy. She asked, "Is this a hospital?" When I answered, "Yes," she questioned, "Where are all the doctors?" Good question Bugg, really good question. Later she noted that Aunt Kaye's bed was like her crib at home.

They were really good for their little visit.
It was a very full day.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Creek Day

Picture Perfect without the Picture

What an exciting bit of summer fun. Today was our usual poopie playdate. After a note from Davy Crockett that led us to a treasure map, we headed off into the woods, dark and deep, over the tree bridge, and to the big Maple tree with the cool gnarly roots, and dug for treasures.
And, after many attempts to post a picture of my little Davy wanna-be with his treasure, I give up. Ahh, fuss and bother!
It was a perfect creek day as well. Enough rain to clean things out and have a flow through the troll tunnel, and to ripple on down the creek, hot enough so no creek players minded if they fell in, and most did, and lots of critters to catch and admire. Fruit snacks, Popsicles, and lemonade made for a perfect day.
Uh, well, there was one not so perfect part. We have several bird houses, in hopes of providing bluebirds a nesting spot. One of our houses had chickadees. Today, Bean and Bugg and I were seeing if the bluebirds had started a new nest, since our last family fledged. After checking the box, we decided to check on the chickadees. A rather horrifying scene was revealed. At least one dead bird in the box, covered by ants. Nature isn't always pretty and I know they need to know about that side of things too. I didn't investigate too much and will allow the Handy Man to clean out the debris-ewwwww.
In chicken land, we still have a few pasty bottoms. I must've looked at 25 sites yesterday about the problem. One person said to try mineral oil to clean them off and another said she always fed her chickie babies oatmeal and never had a pasting up problem. So, I've been using mineral oil and feeding oatmeal. I don't know if it's one of those items, or they are outgrowing the problem, but it is better today.
I'm getting them ready to go outside and enjoy the chicken tractor, lovingly made by the Handy Man, so I fill a plastic box with pine shavings, sprinkle some grit and diatomaceous earth on it and a little food, and watch them scratch and play and dust themselves. It is actually quite entertaining. Today Bean and Bugg caught worms and bugs for them and the chickie girls had some fun with those. If it's above 85 degrees next week, they'll be spending a lot of their days outside.
It's amazing how fast they grow. Some are sprouting little tail feathers this week. Bean christened another chick today with Black Cool.

Kaye has had a bit of a tough week. Eventhough there is no infection, she just coughs and coughs and can't understand why we won't give her something to fix it. She still can't have clear liquids and she doesn't like the stuff that thickens her drinks. Life is sure hard sometimes, huh?

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Picture Time!

Bean feeds one of the chicks and mugs for the camera.

Bugg tries to convince Gramerly that licking the sugar off of the table really is lots of fun!

Monday, June 15, 2009

Opening Ceremonies

Chicken with pasty butt

Arwen, our Great Pyrenees puppy, decided to join me for Opening Ceremonies ( de-pasting) at the brooder this morning. She set there calmly and looked sad at the chickie and me each time I pulled out some little downy tufts ( makes me sad too Arwen and it sho don't make the chickie none too happy). Then she would lick my face with each distressed peep from the chickie.
I said, "Look Arwen, these are all your chickens." It was so funny. She looked right in the brooder and then at me with her head cocked and an expression that said, "Um, all of them." She is interested in them now, but makes no attempt to mouth or play with them- thank the Lord!
Less girls were plugged today than yesterday, so I hope we're progressing.

I'm thinking that tiny one who's name will now be Little Red Hen, instead of Miss Pasty Butt, was an extra. I received three of each kind, but four of the Red Star. She is so small and her wings are so tiny. All the black ones are more aggressive than the red and yellow chicks. There is a big one that is either a rooster, or plans to head up the pecking order. I think I will call her the Trunchbull after the principal in the book Matilda. If all the girls are clustered around my hand when it's time for their probiotic organic yogurt, she will just fly up and land square in the middle of them- just brazen. Little Red Hen can just about walk unnoticed right underneath most of the black ones.
I spent a lot of today shopping. I promised Bean a Scavenger Hunt this week for our Playdate. I needed some old tins, which I found for 29 cents at the Salvation Army Store. Inside the tins will go some exciting treasures- a few coins, sea shells, beads, etc. When everyone is here, I'll lead them to a discovery of an old letter from Bean's hero, Davy Crockett. They're will be a map of course, directing them to a treasure in the Deep Dark Woods, which Davy left before heading out to Texas. I can't wait.

I made a delicious country supper tonight. We haven't had Mexican Cornbread in years. Handy Man loves it and I'm going to be gone every evening this week, so he'll enjoy the leftovers. It was very tasty. Cauliflower has been so expensive for so long that I've sort of forgotten it as a dinner choice. The last few weeks, the price has fallen considerably. Last week, we had it steamed with cheese and tonight I made a salad with apples, pecans and dried cherries-yummy!
What are you having for supper?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Up with the Chickens

Well, just let me say that when I was dreaming all this time of having chickens, I envisioned spending a lot more time looking at their cute little faces instead of their pasty little bottoms. Six to unplug today and some black chickies in the mix. I don't know what the problem is, so I'll just continue to unplug along.
It seemed when they arrived, all the chicks were close to the same size, but some of the black ones, and ones I believe to be Easter Eggers, are twice the size of the Red Stars and Buff Orpingtons. Handy Man was looking at them today in the brooder and declared that the brooder was not going to hold all those girls for long. This declaration was quickly followed by a trip to the Home Depot and now a larger brooder that can be used as a Chicken Tractor is taking shape as I type. He's going to use the wheels off the now defunct grill so I can roll it around the yard. Gotta love it- he's the man!
It's interesting how like the animals we are. When I first put my hand in the brooder with the chickweed, they all peep furiously and huddle in the corner for about one minute. Then Miss Sassy Chickie slowly comes over to check me out. The minute she starts eating out of my hand, the others knock each other over to see what what Sassy has found so intriguing. They would then excitedly trample anyone in their way.

I have had my brother-in-law Pete on my mind a lot this weekend. His birthday is coming up, maybe that's it, or we spent a lot of time talking at the hospital yesterday. He wants so very much for Kaye to get better. Everyday is just another round of appointments and decisions to be made. I came across this scripture, as I was reading this morning, and I plan to write it in his birthday card in hopes of giving him some encouragement.
Isaiah 46:3
Listen to Me, O house of Jacob,
And all the remnant of the house of Israel,
Who have been upheld by Me from birth,
Who have been carried from the womb,
Even to your old age, I am He,
and even to gray hairs, I will carry you!
I have made, and I will bear:
Even I will carry you , and will deliver you.

Good News indeed in a world where not much is thought of gray hairs.
What encourages you when you are down?

Saturday, June 13, 2009

A Bit Unnerved

Everyone who knows me accepts that I'm a plate spinner. I get one thing started, then another, then another. Fellow plate spinners will know that on good days this works marvelously and on bad days not so much. Handy Man Pappy is a different sort all together- he's stays at it till he gets it right. All that to say, I do a lot of dumb things and usually he doesn't. Last night, before I turned in, I asked him if he'd be going out anymore and he said he likely would. I reminded him to please latch the back porch door so no critters could visit the chickie babies. He assured me he would and I confidently went on to bed.
Fast forward to this morning. I wake up and stumble to the kitchen to greet the dogs and start the all important cup of warm and tasty wake-me gently brew. Alas, the back door is open, not the porch door, but the kitchen door to the porch. I almost turned immediately to wake Handy Man up to be the first on the sight, but gathered all my brave reserves and tried to stop and think.
Okay, we never heard the dogs in the night. Nothing appeared out of place, except the door, and most importantly, looking around, I saw no tufts of down floating lazily around the kitchen in the morning sun. I felt pretty sure then that our fifteen week, forty pound, Great Pyrenees had not made a midnight snack raid on the brooder. I gathered my brave chicken farmer reserves and tiptoed out. All twenty two were resting quietly-thank the Lord! I have no idea why Mr. Always On His Game left the door not only unlocked but open, and later he gave no plausible explanation. Mysterious indeed.

I had day shift at the hospital with Kaye, so I was unable to spend much time with my feathered fluff balls and after the coffee took effect, I headed on to the hospital. Pete met with the neurologist last Monday. The doctor reported that most advances are made with brain injured persons in the first three months. After that, the progress is very slow. She shows very slow brain activity. The doctor also said that right side paralysis is associated with language difficulties. As best I understand, the responsive language is more impacted than the reflexive language. Since she isn't totally paralyzed on her right side, I am praying she'll will continue to gain ground with her speech. Maybe you can pray about that too. It is just so dreadful when she is trying so hard to make you understand and you just can't get it.
So, as of today, no infection in lungs or urinary tract, so she goes back to the nursing home tomorrow.
I stayed from 8 to 4 today. About three times she wanted to sit on the side of the bed. She is now able to have soft foods, so in her awake times I tried to get her to eat. She ate a bit of frozen orange juice and some yogurt, like 3 bites of each.
As is typical, she had about 30 to 40 minutes of being awake and somewhat communicative, 2-40 minute periods of sleeping soundly and the rest of the time is so sleepy she can't stay with you and dozey, but not sound.
She met her new grandson today, two week old Everett. Tiffani put him in bed with her and she smiled and stroked his cheek.

After my visit with Kaydle, I ran to the store to make the big organic yogurt purchase, and hurried home to Miss Pasty Butt, who was again pasty with two of her fellow yellow chickies. I mixed the yougurt with the crumbles and they gobbled it up. Now, I'm off to research which of the weeds in what we call a lawn is actually chickweed. Supposedly, the girls will love it, which could account for the name, ya think?

Friday, June 12, 2009

Fun Time at the Chicken Farm

Well, another baby chickie has a name. Bean chose "Black Thermostat" for one of the Australorps. Good thing I'm blogging this, as I'll never remember all the names. Little Miss Pasty Butt is perky, but is very small compared to the rest and we had to un-paste a bit more today, along with another yellow chick. So far, it hasn't been an issue with the dark chicks. I read somewhere today to feed the chicks plain yogurt, as they too benefit from the probiotics, so I'll be purchasing some organic yogurt tomorrow and see if that straightens out my little missy.

I enjoyed a funfilled day with Bean, Bugg and the chicks.

Bean would live outdoors and started out with a great affection for bugs and worms and all manner of critters. When he was about twenty months old he developed a horrible fear of all bugs except lady bugs. We didn't know what caused it, but he had been very ill with a high fever and I wondered if he hallucinated about bugs, or had night terrors. Anyway, I started catching critters and putting them in containers for him to look at without being afraid, and after many months, he came around. We started him a bug collection, which he always called his "connection." First, we kept the critters in a cigar box, but for his fourth birthday, Handy Man Pappy made him a beautiful wood case to keep his buggy treasures in. Today, he got out his treasure box to show his sister and I throughly enjoyed listening in to the conversation.
Bean: Are you ready to be a bug scientist?
Bugg: Yeah!
Bean: You want to touch this beetle? It's dead, it can't hurt you.
Bugg: Ooohh, no!
Bean: Well, is there one you WON'T be afraid to touch?
Bugg: No! They continue looking and he continues explanations.
Bean: Here, You wanna touch this one's butt?
Bugg: Phhhht.
Bean: I know, I was just offering
Then it's time to put the bugs away and one last comment from the Bean.
Bean: They are very fragile. You have to be a bug artist to do this.
Wow, we've come a long way from the Bug Phobia to Bug Artist. I love it.

Kaye is still in the hosptial, but apparently they have her eating some soft foods now. I will be able to give a more complete report after my shift tomorrow.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Day Two on the Chicken Farm

A while back, when I was dreaming aloud of raising chickens, a sweet friend passed along some supplies she no longer needed, included was the brooder for the chickie babies. The donation spent a long time stored in the tea house, where instead of chickens, a little dormouse was happily living. Miss Mousy did not appreciate our interference and left hurriedly with no forwarding address. We cleaned it up, and everything worked, except the thermostat. My handy man husband got that working as well, just before bed last night, but I must say I was nervous after the whole pasty butt episode.
Handy Man always leaves me a sweet note in the morning, so, being brave, I decided to read the note first and prepare myself. Thankfully the note said all the our chickie girls were fine. No surprises.
They peep and all pile together when they hear you coming. I sing softly, usually Amazing Grace, then fill my palm with chick starter crumbles and lay the back of my hand on the floor of the brooder. We have some nosey little peepers, for within minutes I have a handful of fluff, contentedly pecking and scratching.
We ordered seven different breeds, supposedly all female. 3 each of Easter Eggers, Andalusian, Australorp, Buff Orpingtion, Red Star, and Golden Laced and Silver Laced Wyandotte.
The chicks came from My Pet Chicken.

I chose this site because I wanted to try several different types of chickens and you could order only three of each, as opposed to five from most places. Also, they had such great descriptions, and I wanted friendly types of chickens ( no terrifying my sweet poopies) that were also good layers. So far, I am very pleased.

On a less than happy note, my sister Kaye was hospitalized yesterday. She was coughing terribly and congestive heart failure was being discussed. The cardiologist said, "No," to congestive heart failure, but it appears she has an upper respiratory infection. Another sister sat with her at the hospital during dialysis last evening. She said Kaye really had an awful time. Couldn't really understand where she was or what was going on and was very fretful and in a panic. Brain injuries are just perplexing. It is so awful to not be able to do or say anything to make a person feel better. It just breaks our hearts and that's all.

My daughter in law is coming tomorrow, so maybe I'll get some pictures up here. Meanwhile, I must check on the current hysteria surrounding Little April Rose.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

They are Here!

So, our adventure as chicken farmers begins today!
I was very nervous this morning waiting for "The Call."
Finally, the phone rang at 9:15 and the caller ID said, "US Govt." Indeed, it was the post office alerting me to arrival of our new baby chicks. I grabbed the camera and headed out to meet them. I could hear their little peeps as I walked in. Another man came in as soon as the worker handed me the box. He pleasantly said, "Well, wonder how many made it. You know my brother owns a pet store and he says only about half of the parakeets ever make it." Umm, thanks so very much for sharing. I quite timidly opened the box and nervously peeked inside. All twenty-one chicks I ordered, plus an extra were peeping to beat the band. Then another lady with what looked to be a two and a four year old came in and the man again pipes up, "Well there's someone who I bet would like to see what you have in the box." So, being kind, I showed them the chickies. The lady was aghast. "Why do you have chickens here?" she questioned. "I just picked them up," I replied. "They came in the MAIL!" "Yes, they did." "Were they a surprise? I mean who would send someone chickens?" "No, they weren't a surprise, I ordered them." She was incredulous.
I had the warming box ready and put them in with food and water as soon as I got home. It didn't take long until they were eating and drinking and pooping like crazy. Bean and Bugg, my grandson and granddaughter, came for the day and naturally were so excited. Bean said he planned to name another chick every time he came, but for today he'd name one, Yellow Chick Awesome.
Later I checked their little chickie bottoms to make sure no one was pasting up and sure enough, there was one with a big hard poo blob stuck to it's littlest self. I explained to the two and four year old what happened and what we had to do and Bean said, "I want to help you paste the chicken's butt back." Clearly, more explanation was needed. Anyway, we cleared away the dried mess and hopefully Chicken Little Pasty Bottom will make a quick recovery.
Pictures to follow as soon as I get this all figured out.