Mini-Farm Happenings

As the all the kids grow older, I'm finding that life gets calmer in some ways, yet crazier in others. I know...a paradox of sorts.
This past week has been eventful in the mini-farm department. After losing two chickens this past summer, we had two egg-laying positions open up in "The Fuzzy Butt Inn". And since one of our neighbors has been actively hatching chicks all summer, it was the perfect opportunity to replace them. The girls tromped over to his yard one day and chose their hens. Since I've had a fondness for the hens with the hairy legs (I have something in common with them...), I told them to snatch me up one of those. Which they happily obliged. The other chick they chose, they've had their eye on for a while. "Little Moe". ("Moe" is the beautiful black and white one of the left, "Curly" is the lovely hairy-legged gal on the right. "Curly" just seemed like the proper name to go along with "Moe".)

Moe was kind of the runt of the litter. Always smaller than the rest amongst it's hatchling friends. But feisty. (Moe has escaped a total of three times on us in a week. No one could catch that chicken to save their lives. We should have known right then to be warned.) Well, we brought Moe and Curly home and introduced them to the rest of the girls. (I had no idea chickens are clique-ish...but they are. It's really bizarre.) All settled in and seemed to tolerate one another well. But this morning, we were a bit taken back when a strange noise came from our front porch. Running to the window, we see Moe and Curly huddled together. Moe, bless his little soul, was crowing with his entire body for all he was worth. He was rather impressed with himself. While we were amused, we knew it meant that Moe must go back to where he came from. (No roosters for me, thank you very much.) So, while he awaits uncertain fate, we are feeding him lots of yummy treats...just in case he meets his demise soon. (Turns out not too many people are in lack of roosters...feeling kinda guilty about his probable fate...)

As if there was not enough craziness to go around these days, Hubs decided to permit the girls to come home with this little critter.

I didn't even know what to say...so instead I laughed. He is such a tough-talker, but the minute he has those brown eyes begging him...he kinda melts into mush. He has said, and I quote, "Absolutely NO more pets in this house." I do love how he puts his foot down....gently.
And so, the boys fell in love. Named him "Buddy", and the rest is history I guess you could say. The girls have thoroughly enjoyed taking him for a slide...

And towing him in dump trunks.

I have no idea how all this craziness happens. It's like we open the front door wide and beg for it all to enter. It's insanity. (But...I love it.)