Our feathered friends

I never wanted to be a farm girl. I was perfectly content with my high heels, manicured nails and hip haircut. I loved my little house in town that was oh so stylish and clean and organized.

Then I met and fell in love with a man who wanted to be a farmer. Fast forward to moving to the farm and being pregnant. I seriously think it was the pregnancy hormones that did it. I was six months pregnant and one of the guys at work said, "Hey you're livin' on that ol' farm now, I think you need some chickens. I have too many roosters right now, I'll bring some out." Roosters. What am I supposed to do with roosters. Seriously! Hens everyone said, now you need some hens. The Farmer was excited. I thought okay, I'm into organics...fresh chickens eggs would be kinda neat.

So I found a lady who had three little banty chickens. And they laid the cutest little eggs. Then the following spring our bird population exploded. We had hens and roosters of all shapes and sizes, turkeys and ducks and geese. We ordered our first batch of Cornish Cross for meat.

And that is one of the ways that I fell in love with farming.

I love finding little mother hens around the farm who find little hidden places to have a nest.

I love watching birds hatch in the spring (or sometimes the fall if I don't find those nests quick enough).

I love their curiousity. Their beautiful colors and funny hats.

I love their lovely colored shells.

And I love how they supply hours of entertainment for persons big and small.

Lisa