Now that my husband and I have returned to rural life, my old habits from previous years of country living are returning to me. Ever since I first lived in the country about twenty-five years ago, I have raised chickens and ducks for a short time. Five years ago, we moved to be closer to my mother so I could help her during her decline. We moved to a town that prohibited chicken rearing, and it hurt like the dickens to say goodbye to our sweet little flock. Isabelle Buttercup, Ruby Rose, Almond, Lonnie, Goldilocks, and Daisy were re-homed to a nearby farmer. He kindly allowed us to visit them, which helped ease the sadness of our parting ways.
But now, here we are again, and there are no reasons not to have chickens. So, this last week was the big week. It happened as it always happens. I went to the Farm King store “just to look” at the chicks, and I found myself walking in the front door with a box of them, trying to explain to my husband that it was necessary to buy them that day. In truth, it was necessary to get them when I saw them, as the sales clerk mentioned there is a run on chickens this year due to the high price of eggs. Everyone wants to raise them now. She told me the chickens they had that day would likely all be sold before the weekend.
So, I have chickens living in a corner box. Yesterday, we drove to a different farm supply store (TSC—Tractor Supply Company) and ordered a gorgeous chicken coop with a pen. I’m sitting here waiting for its delivery as I write.
Every day, I try to spend time with the chicks, holding them, talking softly, tidying their box, and then later reading about their breeds and stages of development. These little balls of fluff have quickly stolen my heart and filled me with hope and plans for bright, sunny hours of fun and productivity. They grow so very fast, just like my grandchildren. They are only a week old, and their wings are already sprouting feathers. They are practicing scratching, pecking, and foraging. They are up at dawn and go to bed at sunset. They peep, alarmed at loud noises or if Tom and I approach their box. They are practicing being grown-up.
How like them, my grandchildren are, as they grow, developing new abilities and attempting to fit into a grown-up world. Their baby stages of crawling and cooing have only lasted seconds. Now, both are climbing and running and using their words. Hallie Jean, who is two, still speaks baby language, but now her speech is peppered with words we can understand, and she can communicate more and more. She says things like, “What doing, Mommy?” “Daddy go?” “All done,” “Hi, Nanny,” and more. Owen, now just over one-year-old, is saying Mama, Dada, and bah (for the ball) and using sign language to say “more.” They are changing so fast that I get anxious about missing their growth.
Jaycie, my 13-year-old granddaughter, seems more like she’s 18 when you speak to her. She is so bright, articulate, and savvy – far more advanced than I was at that age.
Though I would welcome the opportunity to see the three grandkids daily, I know I can’t. We live too far apart for that, and their family is so busy with school and work. Therefore, I must savor those sweet times when we can get together. In the meantime, I will focus on raising these baby chicks into beautiful, pampered hens. I’m no spring chicken myself anymore, but I still have the energy to tend a flock and have all my mothering instincts, which have never gone away.
For this month’s Recommended Read, see my review of Chickens on the Loose by Jane Kurtz. And under the Activities section of this blog, you’ll find a Hen and Chicks Coloring Page for your little ones to enjoy.
Little Seeds Read 