After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Babies with feathers

On Thursday Brent came home and eventually told me that he met someone who had a bunch of chickens they were trying to get rid of.  For free.  We've been talking about getting some more chickens to shore up our flock a little.  And I pretty much jumped all over that opportunity today and went to get our seven new babies.  Except they aren't fuzzy, they're all feathered out already. Perfect!


Some might argue that really I was jumping at the chance to get out of the house and go do something fun, but I won't admit to anything like that.  And for the record, I did take half of the children.

Anyway, of course they need names, right? At least in a house with all these kids chickens need names.


  However, it was already decided that since it was so hard to tell all the black ones apart, they would all have the same name.  Same for the brown ones.  Eventually the black ones were named Bunny and the brown ones were named something else that I don't recall.  But, before we go out to clean out the coop and get them all settled, Grace takes a poll to see what we should name the one chicken that's different--the yellow one.

Technically it's buff in chickendom, but we'll go with yellow. 

Mom, what should we name the yellow chicken?

Sunshine!

Calla, what should we name the yellow chicken?

Strawberries!

Violet, what should we name the yellow chicken?

Green!

Dad, what should we name the yellow chicken?

Egg Nog!

And then she paces the house for roughly ten minutes studying her poll and trying to work out what she thinks we should name the yellow chicken.

Grace's poll.


Meet Sunshine.


But just so you know, I fully intend to call this chicken Egg Nog.  Because that's just a plain awesome name for a yellow chicken.  Right up there with Green.

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