Spring is in full flight here in eastern Pennsylvania, which means, in addition to blooming lilacs, runaway dandelions, and grass that seems to grow an inch an hour, it’s the time for newly hatched chicks.
Regular readers here know I’ve long had backyard chickens. For eggs, of course; but mostly because they are cute and comical and amuse us to no end. My flock over the years has ranged from four to 20. As of late, due in part to a couple of hawk attacks, we are down to seven. I decided it was time to bring in reinforcements.
Over the weekend, my friend Kathy Sproger made the trip to an Agway out in the country to pick up her order and mine. Now on the laundry room counter, in an oversized plastic bin and with a light bulb to provide warmth, I have 12 new additions to the Grogan avian family. There are a few each of buff orpington, black barred rock, and ameraucana, known for their pastel blue eggs.
They sleep a lot, and spend every waking moment doing what they do best, namely eating, drinking, and pooping.
Meanwhile the adult hens are pecking their way across the lawn as I write this, growing fat on earthworms, grubs, and sweet young shoots. And giving us an egg each per day.