I simply cannot wait to hold those babies in my hand. Those little balls of fluff.
As we were losing our rented farm and needing to find someone to live with, we had to give away everything. I stood outside and watched those chickens be placed head first into crates. My chickens. Laverne, Luisa, Ginger, and twenty-two of their named sisters…the ducks too. I kind of lost myself there for awhile and as Doug helped them pack up my chickens, I stood screaming. Screaming. Losing my animals was worse than losing my antiques. Worse than losing my three cords of wood, my newly planted garden, my homesteading school, my dreams. Our chickens made us farmers when we first started out. Our little house in town where our children would spend hours in the coop kissing and cuddling each chick. Chickens took us to the next level. In four weeks we will have chickens again.
Doug and Maryjane drove to the feed store to order chicks and picked out two Salmon Faverolles who lay pinkish eggs, have slippered feet, and who are docile and good layers. They are also very pretty. We do love pretty chickens.
Two Marans joined their order, those beautiful dark chocolate eggs and pretty feathers. This is a picture of me holding one of our Marans. It was used in an article that was written about our family in the Huffington Post.
Four Jersey Giants, our favorite. One of our Giants, Shirley used to sit in the lawn chair and read magazines with me. They were among our friendliest chickens.
My friend is raising Javas. They have pink eggs, are a little conceited, but they are pretty enough to warrant it. We are getting four of them.
To complete our order, after much begging from me and Maryjane, Doug chose two blue Runner ducks. My heart is full.
In four weeks I will be a chicken mama again. I know I keep saying it, but it sure is good to be back.