Coming Home to Roost

I think I hinted or alluded to our newest family member in my last entry.

This is a true story by the way...

A couple of Sundays ago we went to visit some of my husband's family in Roswell. Yes that Roswell, you know the ones with the aliens, where I was born, not dropped off. We live about 45 miles or so from there.

Anyway, we are sitting out on the porch visiting and Max points and says "Bird" and it is not just any bird, but a chick. So the boys are playing with it and we end up playing with it for the rest of the afternoon. Sweet little thing, it flew up on my shoulder and snuggled before trying to eat my earrings. The boys found it bugs to eat, and we made it a little water dish. We made several attempts to find a neighbor who had chickens but we couldn't find one.

Z had started begging to take it home right away and since we couldn't find an owner, he rode home with us in a box. The chick was a bit noisy early on, not to sure about the car ride, so Z told it the three little pigs and then sang it Kumbaya. He reminded me on the way home that "We Don't Eat Pets."

My master plan was to eventually have some chickens around here, the plan has just been moved up a bit. We poked around the pasture and found a few chick supplies and materials to build a coop. I already have a a few more chickens promised to us after the fair. My aunt was a bit chagrined about us having a chicken as a pet when she came to visit this week. When she was a girl there were a lot of chickens around here, but they weren't pets. My grandfather, great-uncle and great grandfather ran a hatchery on the property for a long time. Most of the buildings are gone now, but a few of the nest boxes are still around. Even though this isn't my first go around raising chickens, we had a small flock when I was a kid, it is amazing how one small chick can make me feel so connected to my family's past.

So here are the pictures, and please bear in mind this young chick is just getting feathers so it looks a bit motley.