little cheeps!

Look who's herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre!....

 

14 little babies.  Oh my word sweet sweet sweet cuteness.  They make me gush like your crazy aunt Betty. Their teeny feet and little chirp and soft feathers and blinking eyes.  Oh my heart.  And that I get to set them down and walk away and have a normal night's sleep.  There's that too.

They are slowly getting named according to their personalities.  The blond in the back is Ellen.  She is pretty and has a real affinity for the ladies.

Her sister Pink is blond too, with true light pink highlights on her tail feathers, which she keeps flipped just so.

Penguin is the proud one in the front.

That's Tipsy on the right.  She falls over allllll the time.  And she's the tiniest one of the bunch.
River has taken her under his care and she sleeps in his lap.

Her twin Feisty isn't pictured because she was truly too feisty for a photo.

They have great meal-time convos. 

Oh my worrrrrrrrrd cuteness.

the girls

The girls are chicken prodigies.  Here's why.....they:

come when they are called - especially Poke.  She walks right up to me and nuzzles in when I crouch down to her, even if she knows its to put her back into her coop.

cluck when they hear our voices....asking us to come play.  How can you NOT come play when a chicken calls?!

are always agreeable....especially when I'm talking with them about politics. Ok, two are named Sasha and Malea, which may make them a tad biased.

put themselves to bed....the sun goes down and they tuck themselves right in and wait for us to close the door.

teach my children to do chores.....they have taught the kids their "laying cluck," so they know to come running for a new egg.  The girls conveniently leave poo on the eggs sometimes, just to teach the kids to not be such Tender Easily Grossed Out Town Kids.

solve spats within about 30 seconds.....one bows down, spreads her feathers, and submits to the other.  Argument adjourned.

love basil.

give me a present every day...its soft and delicious on the inside and comes with pretty brown, green, pink, or white packaging.  Lake Michigan is even sucking up to me with double-yolkers.

The city recently passed a law about these ladies because many people in town are getting them.  The law is a good thing - it keeps living conditions good and holds owners accountable.  We now can only have 8, so 6 went to live with our friends in the country.  Those 6 actually got the good end of the deal because their coop is brand new and has three levels of nesting boxes, like one of those mansions where you pick a new bed every night.  And they get to roam free there, which matters to me a lot.

The new city law calls them  "fowl".  But let's go with Genius Chickens Who Keep Us All Sane And Happy instead.

The Lulu's

Chicken update:

Lulu #1 beat up (or beaked up) on Lulu #2 when no one was looking.

Lulu #1 went to a home for naughty roosters in the country.  

Lulu #2 is hanging on to life by a feather at Grandpa Doug's house.

Pecking order schmecking order.  

Why are boys so mean?

I am not happy.

So minus the Lulus, we are down to 15.  

Note to new owners: Perhaps they need new names.  Maybe that's #1's complex?

But look at Courtney Love, Poke, Sasha, Malea, and Marge....sigh....so pretty.

chicken growin'

Look how big the girls are now! They are out of the ugly stage and into the pretty hen stage, but they still cheep like chicks.

On Thursday night at dusk they got to move into their new home....out of the makeshift garage coop and into the real one.  A big event for all 26 of us!

This is my favorite girl.  Courtney Love.  She comes to me when I call her instead of running away afraid like the others.  And she is a snuggler.  I do indeed like to snuggle chickens.  I own it.

The next morning, we were out at the coop in our pjs at 7:30 am, making sure they made it through the night and liked their new home.

Pjs, cofee, spring air, cheeping chickens - this is the life.

Its  never too early to dance when you're Sage McCage.  She was beat-boxing here.  I kid you not.

Today, 4 girls (Hillary and her cabinet members) are moving next door to Lyndon's coop.  We are happy they aren't going too far away.

The only bad news so far is that Lulu is clearly NOT a girl.  He is being domineering and rough and mean to his sisters.  So he has to go live with our friends in the country soon, where I believe he may change his name.

And last, Riv would like to introduce you to his favorite, Sasha....

chicken puberty

I apologize if you're not a chicken person.  I'm sure you're sick of the pictures.  But these little ladies are our life right now.  Our promise of spring.  

When I started puberty, I wore the same yellow sweatshirt with iron-on bears on the front every.single.day.  I went to camp and didn't shower for a whole week (hey - I went to the pool every day!).  I had a crush on a boy named Tim.  And there were zits.

The girls are there.

Sasha, Courtney, and Lake Michigan have seen cuter days.

But there's something about their gawky-ness that is just so....you know.....likeable.

They make me miss my junior high students.  I mean it.

Sage McCage doesn't seem to notice their awkwardness.  This week, she is their most tender fan.

Bonus of turning Chicken-13?........They flap their wings and fall gracefully when dropped!

We counted them when we put them back in their garage coop, and there are now 21 instead of 19.  I think they age AND multiply in their sleep?!

chick village

River proudly showed me the picture he drew of me, daddy, and him....

Can you guess which one is me?!

I can't quite believe how well he captured my constant state of being.  

Hair standing on end.  Yep, that's me.  Hey, at least I got arms.

And more family photos....

The girls are big enough to feel the grass under their toes and to meet the village that will eat their eggs!

Names so far:
Cozy
Sasha
Malia
Lake Michigan
Courtney Love
Lulu #1
Lulu #2
Spot
Hillary
Patch

One is feisty and just refuses to be caught and cuddled.  We're hoping her name won't be Rooster.

Such therapy they are.....for the littles and the bigs and the souls in between!

cheep

When I was in high school in the olden days before there were cell phones, my Dad often answered the phone with:

"Keim Hatchery, which chick would you like?" just to mortify my sister and me.

Funny how now its true.

More family photos of our 34 (yay!  still 34!!) babies...

 

 

This is Lake Michigan.  She has been looking a bit peak-ed, 

but with a good pep-talk and some TLC, she's rallying.

 

This is Lulu #1.  Lulu #2 is her twin.

 

You can't see it in this picture, but she fell asleep in my hand!  

I could pay hundreds of dollars for great therapy, or I could just let a baby bird fall asleep in my hand.  It was one of those moments where you forget to breathe and you hang in that delicate space that is not of this world.  

Her name is Cozy.

Several of you local-ish readers have asked about coming to meet the girls...come on in anytime you wish, pick them up, and love on them!  Just be sure to close the garage door.  Tybalt (our cat) has not been allowed to meet them yet!!

34 ways to make my uterus ache

I totally called it - the Big Do We Have More Kids Question is something women want to discuss.  Much much thanks to those that have emailed, called, and texted.  We are united in the conviction that this mama thread of deep desire for children runs through our core, and are really truly at very different places in our ifs and whys and whens.  It has done my soul good to hear you!

Speaking of babies.......

34 (well, 35 now 34) little precious 3-day old chicks arrived at our door at 7 am today.

They are so chirpy and soft and delicate and quick and alive!

We are deeply in love and will now be living most of our hours in the garage with them.

By the time they are hens, they will have become so accustomed to us that they are pets.

The naming will begin soon.  We get to name 20.  The rest go to another home.  

20 names.....

This one looks like she splurged on some great liquid eyeliner.  I'll call her my little courtney love.

a fox problem

We have a problem.
A fox problem.

It all started last summer when Miranda and Barack and Obrama became a pile of feathers while we slept.  One night they were there and the next morning they were gone.  And we were so sad.

That's when we found out there was a fox lurking about.  Rude awakening, I would say.

It turns out that Hesston has a "town fox".  Everyone - meaning anyone who has lived here for 20ish years - refer to it as that.  When I bring it up, they casually say "Oh yes, that's just the town fox.  It lives ________________."  And then they fill in the blank with where they believe this "town fox" lives.  Well, joke is on us, Hesston, because the town fox seems to live in about 7 different locations.  Meaning, I believe, that it should be plural.  There are "town foxes".  Or fox.  Or foxi.  Or whatever.  Just lots of foxes around here.

They hadn't pestered us since a year ago when they took our last three chickens.  Until recently when I was going to church at about 7 am on a Sunday morning.  When I pulled out of the garage I saw a streak of gray racing into our garage with a streak of brown not far behind.  I know you're not supposed to curse on Sundays, but there was something along the lines of "Oh shit, Tybalt is going to be breakfast!"  I laid on the horn and jumped out of the car and started screaming to Ryan.  He came bolting out of the house, and...this is the part where a guy shows his true man colors...when you scream bloody murder and he runs out of the house in his boxers and straight into the face of danger....he ran right into the garage and chased that fox right out.  Tybalt, don't ever doubt our love for you.

So we've been on the lookout for these foxi ever since.  Afraid that they will eat our cat or our children.

Tiff discovered last week that "the town fox" was nesting under her shed next door to us.  The city guys came and set a live trap.  This is one foxy lady because she's been tripping the trap, eating the food, and still remaining free to roam the town.  Its quite disconcerting for me because police pull up in front of our house every day and I have a mini panic attack while I do a head-count of the family and then breathe into a bag while I realize that the cop is just there to check the trap.

Ok.  Here's the problem part.

Tonight, Tiff saw baby foxes run across the lawn.  This is a problem for multiple reasons....#1 of course being that this seals the deal that we do indeed have "town foxi".  Its officially plural.  Problem #2 is this...the mama in me is sick sick sick about this live trap.  We can't separate the mama and babies!!  They aren't even weaned yet.  What happens when a baby gets stuck in there tonight and can't eat?!  Oh that poor mama.  And that poor poor baby.  Can't we just wait a week or two or twenty to catch them?

I don't want them to eat my cat.  I don't want them to pester my children.  I do not want pet foxi.  But I do not want to see a mama and her babies separated, no matter what creature they are.

So Ryan told me how to spring the trap.  So Tiff, if its sprung again tomorrow morning, it might have been the fox and it might have been me.  Let's just say it was the fox.

And in the meantime, Mother Nature, please please pretty please somehow move that mama and her babies far far far away.  Into the country where they belong.  Pretty please?

Kansas Hotties

So...many of you have seen my post on facebook about our recent calamaties...but just to reiterate...

It is so damn hot in Kansas.  So hot.  And it hasn't rained in our town since May.

Our AC went out on Friday morning.  There was a series of pops followed by a very hot unit.  I began to plan how I might sell my ovaries to purchase a new unit.  But lifesavers Holly and Steven cancelled their date night and drove all the way from Wichita to fix our unit.  All for $110.  Thank you God for AC, for Steven and Holly, and and for the $110 we needed to fix it.

Our chickens are dead.  There's not much more to say about it than that.  They died of heat strokes.  There were 3 left, and they were eaten by a fox. I'm especially sad about Miranda and Barack.  They were our friends and have been in our family as long as River.  But Ryan says, "That's why I told you not to get attached to our livestock."

I could go on whining about dead garden, dead grass, cooped up kids that are stuck inside, allergies, etc. etc. etc.  But let's focus on the positives...

We are in KC visiting dear friends and are being spoiled richly.  They have a barn, chickens, a backyard pool, a grill, lots of Little People, dress up clothes, garden tomatoes, iced coffee, the OWN channel, and children that our children love.  They are canning pickles as we speak.  Our kind of people.  I've taken pictures but I can't get them to load, so you'll have to use your imagination.

Dawn whipped up this little concoction, and it would be just plain sinful to keep the recipe to myself for a single minute:

Peachy Keen Daiquires:

2 1/2 c. ice cubes

3 firm, medium peaches, peeled and sliced

3/4 c. forzen limeade concentrate

1/4 c. orange juice concentrate

2 Tbsp. powdered sugar

3/4 c. rum

dash of grenadine syrup (optional)

Blend in a food processer.  Serve immediately and drink.  Blend another batch.  Drink. 

Repeat.

All you Kansas hotties can whip some up for yourselves.  You can thank me in person when we get back.  I would be happy to stop by your house and offer my services...I can check that your air conditioner is working and that you've correctly made your daiquires.