Today started off like any other day. I made breakfast for guests, looked at my to-do list, planned my day, cleaned a suite and then completely changed my plans because I remembered the chickens were arriving today. So, on my way I went to the grange to pick up my new fuzzballs.
I call them my little chicken nuggets. I may or may not have walked out of the store with 16 Mc Fuzzballs. I couldn’t contain myself.
Setting up the brooder (cute, warm little fuzzball house) isn’t easy when you skip a year. Everything gets stored away in places you never knew existed – including the keys to the shed.
But the peanut gallery cheered me on. Or maybe they just wanted grain.
Scavenger hunt finished… cage behind the barn, waterers in the shed, feeders in the attic of the barn and comfy bedding shavings in the back of the truck. Chicken nugget warmer ready. I will not need exercise for two months.
Twenty-five pounds of special, baby fuzzball food. Check.
Ooooooo shnooky wooky. You so sleepy?
Giving me the stink-eye, huh, sassy sweetums?
That’s okay because someday you will be a diva and look like Cher so I’ll let your miniature attitude go for now.
Sun bathing beauty. My little California girl. My little sunshine bunshine.
And this one? I bought her just because of her breed name. She is a Frizzle. She will be frizzly. My little frizzly bear.
I shall talk normal again in a few months. I promise, my lovey dovey pookie wookie. Thank you for visiting.