Look what arrived here on Monday.
Those are Jumbo Cornish Rock X chicks, hybrids who are designed to reach their Freezer Camp weight in 7 – 8 weeks. They’re the kind of chicken sitting in packages at most grocery stores.
We ordinarily don’t order chickens from hatcheries, but we have an issue here at Crooked Acres where Fred puts off sending chickens to freezer camp, and then we end up with chicken leg quarters that are so tough they’re on the verge of inedible, even after simmering on the stove for hours. Several years ago we accidentally got a couple of Cornish Rocks with another order, and while they were kind of sad – they grow so fast that after a certain point they do literally nothing but sit there and eat, they don’t run around like normal chickens – they were also, you’ll forgive me, ribbon winners in the Freezer Camp taste-o-lympics.
So it was my idea, this year, to order 25 of them and see how it goes. For now they’re in a brooder in the old coop. In another couple of weeks we’ll move them to the garage, to a bigger brooder, and then a couple of weeks after that, we’ll move them out to the maternity yard. Currently they’re on paper towels, and we’ll put cedar shavings down in a few days when we can be sure they won’t try to eat them.
The first thing you have to do, when you get a box of chicks from the hatchery, is to take them one by one and dip their beaks in water.
It took them all of two minutes to discover the feeder.
And then they huddled together under the heat lamp.
Some of them slept. Some of them gave me the stink eye.
Along with our Cornish Rocks, we got an extra chick, a “rare breed.” They send you the rare breed, but don’t tell you what kind it is, so you have to figure it out on your own.
I named him Arnold.
At this point I think he might be a Cochin.
Here’s a video. If 25 chicks sound like this, can you imagine what hundreds of them must sound like?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Bath time for Lilybet.
I sure do love her silly face.
Pregnant? Not pregnant? IT’S A MYSTERY.
The other night, Fred was telling me how Lilybet is clearly NOT pregnant, and then he picked her up and was feeling her belly, and when his hand got near her back legs, he felt a little, round, hard belly, so now he’s allowing that perhaps she is. Who knows?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Batman on the window shelf, keeping a superhero eye out for trouble, now that he’s well-rested.
Batman on the right, Robin on the left. Sooner or later, they all make their way up to that platform! (Check out the set of black cats who were using it a year ago.)
I had to turn the light on to get a decent picture of these two, and Batman was absolutely fascinated by the ceiling fan. I guess he’d never noticed it before.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As long as you’re comfy, Newt.
I don’t know what it is about that corner of the counter, but he and Kara and occasionally Stinkerbelle love to hang out there. (I kick them off the counter when I’m cooking. I mean, not that you were invited over for dinner or anything, but I felt the need to reassure you that we’re not complete animals.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Previously
2012: As soon as they hear me wake up and roll over in the morning, though, they’re all crawling on me, purring, and asking for love.
2011: No entry.
2010: No entry.
2009: It’s absolutely stunning what separating a couple of skittish kittens will do to their personality.
2008: And then Joe Bob wasn’t even interested in going outside.
2007: We call him Popeye when he does this.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.