The Chickens and the Eggs

{baby chicks for sale at our local Quality Farm and Fleet}

I grew up raising chickens. I wish I could have them still. . .

Random Chicken Memories

:: Going every spring with my mother to Southern States to pick up our chicken order. We loaded them in the back of our station wagon and listened to them peep all the way home.

:: Hooking up the heat lamp in the kitchen and putting it over their pen, which we housed in the kitchen until they were big and strong enough to survive outside.

:: Scrubbing poop off the eggs. They were still warm and in a basket. I always thought it was gross. Today I wouldn't mind at all.

:: Being a little reluctant to reach under a chicken on her roost to get her eggs because I thought she might peck me.

:: Watching them peck around, eating bugs and scraps from our kitchen.

:: Listening to my dad talk about seeing a rat in the 55 gallon barrel we used to store the chicken feed. I never opened that lid again.

:: The summer my mom went all Little House On The Prairie on us and decided to butcher all the chickens and freeze them for the winter. She did it. All by herself. But we never ate a single chicken. A couple years later she threw them all away.

:: Hearing our rooster crow on summer mornings through my bedroom window.

:: My dad putting eggs in his coat pocket and forgetting they were there. He took us to breakfast in town and when he went to pay the bill his pockets were dripping.

{sigh} Do you think the neighbors would mind if I just bought a chick or two??