Chicken Little

Our little urban farm grew just a little bit bigger this last week. Now in addition to 2 dogs, and a newt, we have added 4 chickens. I had talked about getting chickens for so long that somehow I assumed that Chris and I were on the exact same page. Imagine his surprise when he came home from a day of skiing to discover the living room interrupted with 2 day old fluffy chicks. I hadn't intended to get them that day; I only went to JAX to pick up some dog food...but there they were. And two kids and a mommy, who want some chickens make a very convincing argument. However, my sweet tempered husband quickly fell in "like" with the helpless little creatures. Probably everybody on Facebook is tired of hearing me blather on about our new additions, and I have been beginning nearly every conversation with the information that we just got some chickens. But they are so darn cute and I'm really just a farm girl at heart.



This is Aidan's chick. Her name is Pippi and she is a Buff Orpington. She already comes to the side of the box when Aidan peeks his head over and starts talking. She seems very gentle and calm. She's best buddies with Chloe's chick-they are hardly ever apart.



This is Katy, a Silver Spangled Hamburg. She was named after the city we lived in in Texas. She is the smallest and the most high strung and skittish of the bunch. She likes to try and burrow into the pine chips which provokes Pippi to come over and step on her head.

This is Ginger, an Ameraucana, who will lay blue green eggs. She's cream and brown colored. Last night I was woken up by a chick giving it's alarm cry and came out to see that someone had pooped on her wing and she was very upset by it. The three other chicks were lined up and trying to help her clean it off.

This is Chloe's chick, Tikka Masala (one of our favorite Indian dishes). She is the fattest and the sassiest of the bunch and usually the first to confront something new. Today Roscoe stuck his nose into their cage a little too close and to his shock, she marched over and pecked him soundly on his snout.

Winter Brown

A few years ago, when we first moved to Colorado, I remember feeling a bit depressed as the winter dragged on, and on, and on. I was used to spring coming early and the continual brown weighed heavy on me. In fact, I painted my kitchen a brilliant, cheerful shade of granny smith apple green because I was so hungry for the sight of something green. In Houston, spring was my favorite season. It came early and was too soon eclipsed by the heat of summer and the sting of fire ants. But it was beautiful. The air seemed to throb with the scent of growing, living things. And every day it seemed a new wildflower took it's turn by the side of the road. So I wondered how I would feel moving back to Colorado for a long winter and late spring. But since that beginning transition a few years ago, I have grown to love the barren winter landscape. Maybe it fits me more now. (My kitchen was painted a chocolate brown soon after we moved back) And contrary to my initial impressions, it's beautiful. Wild and cold and free feeling. With shades of brown and gold, blues and grays, silver and white.


Roscoe and I were surprised to see this guy in the field next to us howling for all he was worth. I confess that it made me a tad bit nervous since I was out in the middle of nowhere.
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My ever ready hiking buddy...