Thursday, May 5, 2016

Moma's Chickens

Good morning! 
Would you like to sit and chat with me for a few minutes? I'd love to tell you about my unusual day. 
One sure sign of getting old is that when you lay in the bed for too long. After a while it doesn't feel good anymore, it feels uncomfortable and you think, I would rather get up than lay here and ache. 
Yeah, I'm old, I will admit it. My eyes opened after stirring around trying to get comfortable again, but it was no use... 5:56 AM.  Yawn, I've only been in bed for about 5 or so hours, but here it is morning and it doesn't feel good to lay here anymore, so let's get up. Besides, the coffee is brewing... yeah, that's a great reason to get up.
BUT WAIT!!! I HAVE CHICKENS! 

Yesterday I posted online about looking for some chickens and through a wonderful friend I was able to now have 3 layers and 1 rooster!!!
BLISS! 
Chas has chickens again!! 


I hurriedly brushed my teeth and slipped on my work clothes and walked to the kitchen. The sun was rising and I had a few dishes that somehow found their way to the sink during the night... because I KNOW that I washed ALL the dishes before bed.
Oh well, I will wash the dishes.
Tidying, cleaning, waiting on the coffee to finish percolating as the wonderful aroma filled my happy kitchen. I was on cloud 9!

I'm looking out my window, eager to see if the chooks are up too. 
Nope, not yet. 
Busy, busy... 
Getting Shannon some breakfast and some lunch ready. 
Getting the stuff out for French toast for the kids...
Moma is a happy girl.

Wait...
What is that in my grapevine?
I strain to see.
My eyes are SO bad.
That looks like a huge red bird in my grapevine...
I wonder what that is????

So I try to easily and quietly slip out the back door so I don't disturb whatever is in the vine.

I start down the stairs and see...
IT'S A CHICKEN!
How in the world??
What?
What??

And what happens next? Here run out the other two!
All three hens jump down off the grapevine and run straight to the brush!

Tears begin welling up in my eyes. 
Where's the rooster? 

I try to hold back my frustration and my emotion, because usually when I get upset I cry.
When I am happy, I cry..
I weep.
Pathetic... I realize this. But that is me. Ole tenderheart.

I hear, "I told you that coop wasn't gonna hold those chickens"
Yeah, I didn't want to hear that right now being that I am feeling very sad and on the verge of crying.
But, I refrain.

I go into the trees after them as much as I can and deeper they go still. 

I decide the best thing is to put out some food and hope they come out in just a little while and pray that no stray dog or anything gets them while they are in the brush.

My boys are early risers and they came out of their bedrooms rubbing their eyes and remembering just like I did... "OH yeah! Mom's got chickens again!"
Then they see my face.
My sad, sad, SAD face...

"Mom! What's wrong?" they ask.

"The chickens... they got out and are in the brush and the rooster is missing." I reply.

Without me saying another word, they both run for their shoes and out the back door they go. 

What good boys, I thought. They want to make sure Moma gets her chickens back. 
Aww, so precious.

And sure enough. I hear a few clucks and a few squawks and lookie here.
One at a time they gathered the girls back up.
We clipped their wings, we mended the coop and put them in the chicken pasture.

My boys...
My hero's. 

The boys cut a doorway and mended the holes, they attached the ramp and cleaned the nesting boxes.


Here the girls are in a beautiful, big pasture with a house all ready for them. Hooray for a little start to the farm again.

We feel certain the rooster was killed by something, but we want to think that he was the reason one of the girls didn't get attacked, and honestly if one had to go, I'm thankful it was him and not one of our layers. Farm fresh eggs are a precious commodity. 
My heart is blessed so greatly. 
My boys showed me what fine young men they are turning into.... they are not little boys anymore. Nope, not by a long shot. They are capable, willing, dependable young men in the making.

We feasted on French Toast and milk from a friends cow and were very happy with our morning adventure.  Thankful that Moma's chickens were safe. 

Thank you God for the blessings of these children of mine and our new chickens.



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