Chicks, man.

Spring is a frantic time on my small farm. An extra evening hour of daylight does not save me from the chronic issue of tomuchtodo. Last year, we skipped adding baby chicks to the list and thus our youngest birds are two. Their best laying year is already behind them, and with all these chickens, it would be nice to have adequate eggs to show for our efforts. So, this year was bound to be a chick year. A few months ago, I compiled the list of wanted babies and placed a pick-up order at a hatchery in Polk, Ohio. I did not know where Polk was, (and having been there, I can't say I've changed that status) but my new Tom Tom(a.k.a "NewJane") from Huz figures these things out! So Tuesday morning, after chores and getting Youngest on the bus, neighbor Lindsay and her son- new to chickening -walked down the lane to join Middlest and me in my New Denty, a.k.a. Chameleon, for a NewJane guided drive to Polk. It was a gorgeous day for a drive, and was about 2 hours or so north of us, north of TBC even! As we were getting close we began seeing signs for "Grandpa's CheeseBarn". Okay, sounds promising. I like Grandpas, Cheese and Barns, my kinda place! It turns out our companions had been to Grandpas and made some fond memories. We exited the highway where NewJane said "Exit right", and what do you know? Grandpa's CheeseBarn is right there. Can't fight fate.

Grandpa's is the land of the sample. One pass through, and no one needed lunch anymore. Middlest and I deliberated, and I purchased a triple cream Bergenost, a sage Cheddar, a Garlic Cheddar, and "Grilling Cheese", which is an experience for cheese lover, Youngest. I also purchased local honey and a mix of gluten free Killer Mudd brownies. We then put our purchases in the car and entered the barn next to the CheeseBarn. This was "Sweeties" which is a chocolate and candy shop. Overwhelmingly tempting! I purchased dark chocolate pecan turtles, one for me, one for Middlest, and our companion chose a cashew turtle. Lindsay was far too principled, and just smelled the chocolate. Now, if Grandpa only had a wine shop.... my version; Disneyland.
On to Chicks, man. A few miles down the road we turned a bit here and there, whatever NewJane dictated, and arrived at Meyer Hatchery. Let me say, that I am fascinated by the Amish. I would like to be an Amish stalker. If I had the choice of going to L.A. and trying to spot the "stars", or going to Amish country, and spotting the Amish, I easily choose the latter. I haven't asked for any autographs, but I seriously want to climb into the back of the buggy and hide. At Meyer, there were Amish. A Amish lady even drove up in one of the black box buggies with a little boy in the back, probably two years old. He was adorable, with his long hair and hat pulled down on his head. He had little button shoes and a dingy blue coat held together with safety pins, the big kind you use for diapers. He had pink cheeks and bright blue eyes and was interested in the bags of feed in the supply store. His mom, after tying the rein of the horse to the hitching post went back into the buggy and retrieved what I assume was a baby. It was completely shrouded in a black cloth, with a black baby bonnet, and not a bit of the baby was showing. It also didn't move, so it could have been an Amish doll, except it was bigger than a usual doll, and she carried it carefully like a baby. I realized I was being stalkerish and trying to strike up a conversation, and following the little boy around, so I stopped. But it was tough.

Note the buggy at the hitching post on the left. It's like seeing Matt Damon.

On to Chicks, man. We entered the store and gave our order numbers. Soon, someone came out with our little box of wildly peeping chicks. We paid and got our NPIP pollorum papers- APHIS legal, we are. We wandered around a shopped a bit. Middlest really wanted a sign that said "WARNING! GOOSE WITH BAD ATTITUDE!" Which, is true, and may be wise to post, but then the next person he dismantles could sue us, because we knew he was dangerous. Roulette, baby. Drive down Cowfeathers lane and you could lose some flesh. We did purchase some little cups that will be useful at The Fair for food and water in the poultry pens. Now, to race home. The chicks, you see, have hatched and not been fed, nor given water for maybe 24 hours. They do need these things, even though they are equipt by nature to not need them right after hatching. They also need warmth. 95 degrees. So, we baked ourselves a bit on the way home, the peepers boxed and sitting on kid laps for extra warmth.

At home we got the babies situated in the brooder, which for us is a baby pool in the mudroom. It has shavings, covered with newspaper for the first day, a waterer and a feed station. A heat lamp is shining down on one area, so if they feel cold, they will gather under the lamp. 12 baby chicks, man. I think. They're hard to count, because they aren't very still.  They are very fuzzy and cute. Apparently, I ordered Australorps, Ameraucaunas and Partrige Cochins.

But, our fuzzy, cute baby critter count was not done. The next morning, I waited for the 7:30 a.m. phone call from the post office alerting me to my box of babies waiting there. These babies were from the land of the "stars", California. Travelled a long way to see the Amish.

The newcomers are baby ducks and baby geese!

This is a baby Toulouse goose. Baby geese are the cutest of any baby feathered creature. Even the gander babies are adorable. This in direct contrast to their future personality. They make the most adorable "weeppeeppeep!" happy noises.

Jules is very invested in the babies. She would like to take one with her. They are good for hours of staring, because Mom has declared no tasting.

One of the goslings has a drink. They scoop water into their beak, and then throw their head back and move their beaks open and shut.

In order to get the babies used to people, this is me, on the computer, writing this blog. We hold the babies when we can, and talk to them. And, buttoned into my shirt, I have two hands free.

Bloggin' down on the farm, Amish style, with Chicks, man.  Wow. I am so uncool.