Monday, June 1, 2009

Chicks, April 24, 2008

Fourteen years. Fourteen years my husband would ask me what I wanted for Christmas and I would say 'chickens'. Lots happened during those fourteen years: moving, job changes, growing a company, baby, heart attack and bypass surgery, meditation classes, sweeping diet changes, miscarriages and more.

It was nearing Mother's Day 2008 when my husband asked if I wanted to do anything special. You can guess my answer, but this time, I threw in, "And you know, Marcy is not getting any younger. Soon, she won't have any interest at all." Marcy is our then-ten-year-old daughter.

My husband's response? "Chickens would be fun."

That was all the go-ahead I needed.

It was Wednesday. On Thursday I checked every book about chickens out of the library. On Thursday night, during a downpour, I suggested we drive to Houle's farm store on Highway 36 "just to look".

We walked in 10 minutes before closing and were greeted by about a dozen peeping chicks in a cardboard box. A couple from St. Paul was there, picking out four. Our thought was three. We came home with seven. We ended up with sixteen. More about that to come.

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