Cabin Life – #79

It’s been the kind of week where I am just awash in babies.  This is not a The New Chicksbad thing, although it is a far cry from my normal lifestyle.  I’m sitting on the patio of my brother’s house in Orlando, Florida, waiting for my niece and nephew to wake up.  Their official greeting of spit-up all over me was warm and gracious, if unconventional.  But trust me when I say that the two month old twins are too cute to be upset with.

The other babies I’ve been seeing a lot of lately are my chickens.  The four of them are staying in Amy’s garage while I’m out of town, but I got to spend plenty of time with them before I left.  Amy took her seven larger chicks plus one very tiny chick and put them in her new coop.  That left my four little girls to themselves in a heated cage.  Once I’m back, though, the girls will be my responsibility.

It’s amazing to think that just a week or so ago, the chicks were on a farm somewhere, being raised under heat lamps along with what must have been hundreds of other chicks.  Then, someone grabbed a couple dozen of them, put them in a cardboard box and mailed them out.  Amy had put together the order with a few other friends since none of them actually wanted two dozen baby chickens.  Her share was five chicks.

But after getting seven chicks that were hatched at the elementary school in Saranac Lake, she realized that all seven of them were going to be hens.  The school hadn’t sexed the chicks and Amy figured a few of them would be male, and that the extra five mail-order chicks would be used to replace the males of the group.  And when all of the original seven turned out to be hens, she asked if I wanted the mail-order chicks, and I said yes.

Getting to see and interact with the chicks has been fun and exciting.  I hate to admit it, but I already have a favorite.  I don’t know what breeds or varieties they are yet but for some reason the brown speckled chick has grabbed my attention.  I don’t want to play favorites with the chickens, but I can’t help it.  Luckily, they’re chickens and I don’t think they’ll notice.

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