(Don't I wish!)
Unfortunately, not that addition. No, as if adding a seventh baby and gardening for the first time ever weren't enough for us to take on this spring, we decided it would be a good idea for us to get chickens.
Misti, stop laughing :o)
In the spirit of full disclosure, I will say the idea was initially mine, and then Glen took over. We were already building a large shed, so he just decided to make part of it a chicken house with outside access to a large chicken yard. We're not planning on letting them roam completely free as we have so many other animals (not the least of which is our super-hunter cat) that may just think we've opened the all you can eat chicken buffet :o)
Speaking of, the night before last, I was thankful for my husband, and his shotgun, as the hugest, most gigantic possum ever decided that the cat food on our porch was for him. Normally, we don't worry about possums too much, but this one was reminiscent of that horrible nasty animal on the Princess Bride. It was gross. And that is an understatement. It was at least two feet long and it's tail was so thick I don't even want to think about it. Not to mention we have new chicks. It was late, and Glen shot it in the bushes, so he left it until morning. Now, my husband is as much of a manly man as any guy, but he did not want to deal with it. It was in a hard to get to area that was going to require more physical contact than he really cared for.
No problem! Eight year old son to the rescue. After being properly
bribed motivated the following morning with the promise of $5 for a very minimal amount of work, Caleb donned rubber gloves, picked it up by the tail, and deposited it across the drive into the woods. Glen was relieved. :o)
So anyway, back to the chickens. We go through at least $50 of eggs a month, so that, along with thinking it would be a good learning experience and responsibility for the kids, decided to get eight Rhode Island Red hens. No roosters for us. So far they are doing fabulously and living in a box in our school room. Glen is oddly attached to them, I think it has something to do with he's the one that actually went and met the guy we purchased them from and rode around with them in his van for the afternoon.
(Every night after the kids are in bed, he goes into the school room and plays with them, but you didn't hear that from me.)
We thought about just getting some hens from my grandparents so they would go ahead and start providing eggs, but then we decided that maybe having them from chicks would cut down on the nervousness about being around grown chickens for the first time ever and that the chickens would be friendlier. You know, because
I've been terrified ever since I was little about being pecked it's important that the kids are comfortable around them. Ahem. I think it was a good decision. I'm not completely sure on all the details, but I know we have one named Picky, one named Arrow, one named Violet, one named Chick-fil-a, and one named Godzilla. I don't think the others have names.
I'll keep you updated on any interesting news on the chicken front.