Our hens are aging rapidly, so in the interest of making sure we continue to have a steady supply of eggs, we decided to replace Honey (executed last year for war crimes) and Maud (heat-stroke casualty) with a couple of youngsters.
Because my friend Terriann was interested in backyard chickens but didn’t want to fool with raising them from babies, I bought four extras, bringing my flock of fledglings to six. We got sex-linked goldens this time. They’re a cross between Rhode Island reds and Rhode Island whites. I wanted either barred Rocks or buff Orpingtons, but they didn’t have any buff Orpingtons at the feed store, and the barred Rocks were straight run, meaning we could have ended up with a mess of roosters. I don’t have anything against roosters, but they’re awfully noisy for an urban setting, and they don’t lay eggs (which is the whole point of owning chickens).
Anyway, these little boogers should be ready to go outside by the end of April. If they’re like the last bunch, I’ll be ready for them to go outside by the end of March, but fresh eggs are well worth the annoyance of living with young chickens for a few weeks.
If you’re playing along at home, this brings our current fauna count to three dogs, one hamster, one finch, 10 chickens, and God alone knows how many bees.
I need a farm….
Emily
Red Fork Hippie 
We’ll give you an acre, but you can’t take it to Oklahoma. You’ll have to come back to Illinois. You can use the barn too if you want.
I think I’m too Okie to survive in Illinois. To paraphrase Neil Diamond: Herrin’s home, but it ain’t mine no more….
My grandmother had a Buff Orpington rooster when I was a kid. It was the meanest, stupidest, ballsest SOB. It used to have sex with the male ducks and attack my dog. I think it was mad that my grandmother named him Buffy.