Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Girls, Girls, Girls

The girls came home today.  Jon did his homework and found that if we went to the Scarborough Tractor Supply we could get chickens called Barred Plymouth Rocks.  In Brunswick, we could get Sex Links.  (I kid you not.  That's what they are called.  These chickies are bred so that you can tell by their color what sex they are.  We were looking for all girls, so this was a helpful trait).  So I scooped up Abby early from school, we freed Jon from work, and headed to Scarborough, while Dale and Diane zipped up to Brunswick.  That way we could get some of each.

You get to bring your chickies home in a box strangely akin to a box of munchkins.  

The Sex Links (sounds like a band)
The Barred Rocks in a box
Jon introduced them to their new home.

Here is your water...

...and here is your food.
Welcome Committee
Chickie Hug.  The gals are getting along nicely so far.

One of the funniest things is watching them fall asleep.  They will doze off, and then another will come along and bump them or step on them or kick wood shavings on them, and the sleeper will jump up and bee-line for the food or water.

Sleeping Chickies 

We kept watching and waiting to see if all twelve of the girls would snooze at once.  It didn't seem likely, but then it happened...for about seven seconds.

I'm not sure we need TV anymore.  These gals are mesmerizing.  

We are still deciding on what to call them.  Abby wants to call the yellow ones Farrah Fawcett, just like her Uncle Frank wanted to do when he got to name a chick in kindergarden.  It's a possibility.  We'll keep you posted.


  1. This is my favorite part. The first couple of days when they are all soft and fluffy and warm and peeping.
    And I may now name a chicken Farrah in honor of Uncle Frank. But I promise it will be an egg one and not a meat one.