And another

She's not a chicken, she's a ham.

Photo opp

Blanche walks into another shot.

General Mills

Our friends from Northfield (which is the country) ask us if we (from Roseville, the city) know if we have any roosters yet. When we tell them we're not sure, they says we should know by now.

"But we're idiots." I tell them. "We have never been around a chicken that hasn't been on a plate before."


This one gives me reason for suspicion. He acts differently already from the others. I decide to name him General Mills. Plan A for roosters may have to go into affect soon.

She's got legs

It's Legs! She turns into our smallest and friendliest hen. When she lays eggs, she gets all red and puffs up to the size of a softball. Lucky for her, she lays only once a week or so.

What will she be when she gets older?

Guess what this one looks like when she (he?) grows up?

Combs

The chicks are getting these small combs on top of their heads. There are rose combs, sultan combs, funky combs, straight-forward combs. They're growing in like antlers or something. They're soft, and make me wonder even more what these little guys are going to turn into.

The five arrive

The day has come to pick up the five hens we're going to adopt! Thing is, I've never transported a chicken before. I collected five wine boxes, thinking I'd put one in each. But Lori says a big Rubbermaid bin will do the job. I bring the bin the chicks have abandoned, and we wrangle them all in there - not without a few (namely Stretchie) escapees. It feels a lot like trying to put the worms back into the trick can. We bring them to their new home, then sit around and watch them settle in. It's like watching fish in an aquarium.