Not to be confused with chicken cacciatore.
Miss me? Wait...don't answer that.
May and September around this old farmhouse seem to plum do me in.
So much to do, wrapped around both ends of a job.
Let's just say nobody is happy around here until the garden is in.
But it's all good....cause it's in!
I thought perhaps this week we could spend some time getting reacquainted.
Our 'New Hampshire' chicks are three weeks old now and they moved out to the coop to join the rest of the flock over the weekend. I use the term New Hampshire loosely, all four of them have different colouring and it will be interesting as we continue to watch their plumage fill out.
Our chicks from our first incubator hatch are now seven weeks old! They're growing like proverbial weeds; some are almost as big as Laurie who's a full three weeks older, and they have all surpassed the Barred Rocks in size.
The Barred Rocks, sigh... my sweet little birds. They are so timid and docile compared to the Chanteclers. So much so that I seriously considered switching to raising this breed. We had one rooster out of our five little chicks that we had surreptitiously picked up at the poultry swap but we lost him during a very hot day. I cried and I seriously doubted my ability to raise any other kind of farm animal if I couldn't get over losing a chicken but life around a farm goes on whether you'd like it to or not. Oddly, I take comfort in that.Eli. Eli.Eli. He still crows up a storm. I find myself rushing out to the coop in the morning just to quieten him up for a few minutes. Scratch works wonders when you want a quiet rooster.
Now take a good, close look at those tail feathers of his. Those lovely green iridescent tail feathers that shimmer in the sunlight. Now take a look at Laurie below and tell me do you see what I see?
I do believe, our first born here at the old farmhouse is a he!
~Be well friends!~