Well, you can take the girl away from the farm, as the saying goes, but you CAIN'T (I say with thick accent) take the farm out of the girl.
It started innocently enough. We were looking at these adorable little chicks at the area Farmer's Market on Thursday.
We were full of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' and 'they make the cutest noises!"
Which was followed by my usual, "Back when I was a kid . . " schpeel.
Then MOTH called from the car with lunch, (as we had planned) and put the kabosh on everything. We left. And got lunch from the car. And one of the kids said, "dad, can we get chickens?"
You all know what his answer would be. 'Cause y'all know him as well as I do. He bellers a big, resounding 'NO' to everything. And that was before nicotine withdrawal and generalized grumpiness. "No." is his standard answer.
So jump back and fall down when he said, "sure."
It feels like this is a good place to insert my feelings on chickens. I love chicks. I love chickens. I love the eggs. I love the garden aspect. I have, indeed, wanted chickens for quite a while.
So, with me actually wanting chickens and dad saying "sure, here's what we brought home on Thursday:
Meet Popcorn, Dobby, Penny and Missy, respectively . . . our new backyard flock. I'd say that they have stripper names, but that would be stolen from a chicken blog I read. Anyhoo.
Well, it dawns on me that I listed them in big-to-small child birth order, not photographic order . . . . so that would be be: Dobby (is Little's), Missy (belongs to Big), Penny (goes with Middle) and Popcorn (is paired with Mimi). Mimi, by the way says, "PO-korn", like there is no second 'p'.
We love them. I love them.
We've already read four books on chickens and urban chicken-keeping. They are adorable and I absolutely, positively love them. Not to mention the kids. They are in LOVE with the new backyard flock!