Like A Farm

A family wedding brought us back to Nebraska for an extended weekend.  Usually, I devoted at least some of the time to giving Clay a bath and trimming his nails or cleaning out the cat box for grumpy old Ripley but both greyhound and cat have gone all the way of the earth.

One of the older hens, Checkers, who will be making a move to Indiana.

My mom has been after an elusive breed of hen since she first got her flock: the black australorp.  They lay unusually large brown eggs which are often double-yolked.  Of course, she couldn’t just get a few for her.  She phoned and asked (repeatedly) if I wanted some chicks.

She’s already named Jellybean Junior, a.k.a. J.J.

Jack doesn’t care much for hens but he never complains when I whip up an omelet for him.  So, about eight of the girls–a few chicks and a few older, already-laying hens will come back to Indiana.  Lucky for us too, we’ve already got a little shed that would be a perfect coop with a little paint and a fenced in yard.