Ahh...the memories. When I was a little girl, my grandma had a chicken house in the middle of her HUGE front farmyard. Every spring, she and my grandpa would go uptown to the Landmark grain tower and pick up the new chicks they had ordered. I remember there being scads of tiny, yellow, puffy chicks all over the chicken house. They were so cute and fun to hold...for a few weeks. Then, they turned into adult chickens and were kind of homely and "chicken" like.
Fast forward to 2011. My mom decided she wanted to raise a few hens to have fresh eggs. So, in his wisdom, my dad agreed and built her a small henhouse. Right now, these five little cuties are living in a small box in the extra garage at my mom and dad's, all cozy under a heat lamp.
I took the kids out to see them about two weeks ago. They weren't super excited about it-trying to put a little country into some city kids is tough-and the boys had more fun locking each other in the henhouse than holding the chicks. If any of you have been reading our
blog long enough, you'll know that it took a lot of coaxing for Matthew..aka Mr. I Don't Like Anything Weird Touching My Hands...to even hold a chick for a second. Lucas was hyper as I don't know what, and Natalie tried to push the beaks back into their little faces. Good times...at least they ran off some steam on the swingset!
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