Hello from East Liverpool, Oh
A very Happy New Year to all!
It has been almost 6 months since DH and I made the hour and a half drive to Meyer's Hatchery and started the journey of raising backyard (barnyard) chickens for our own delicious and safe eggs.
Meyer's called our chickens golden buffs, and was there a bunch of them that Saturday morning in July. We arrived at the tail end of Saturday morning pick-up of started hens. We checked in and got our receipt...I had already paid online for the girls...and then headed to the huge barn housing I don't even know how many hens...both white and golden buffs. We had taken two large dog crates to take the girls home in, riding in style in the back of the enclosed pick-up. It was cool and cloudy that day; perfect traveling weather for July.
I should probably say at this point that I have NO farm experience whatsoever, except, of course, for my first day of college at the Ohio State University when I walked...yes, walked...across the cow field for my 9 a.m. class in the Ag building...Rural Sociology 'cause regulay Sociology was closed...and I didn't know about bus service. But that is another story, and I digress...
The knowledgable gentleman distributing hens took our receipt and grabbed three girls by their feet from a large cage and deposited them in one of our crates. He grabbed 3 more, placed them in our other crate, closed the door and we were off.
We arrived home 90 uneventful minutes later and carried the crates to our redied pen and gingerly opened the crate doors. After a little encouragement, the girls exited the crates and entered their new home. And thus began an adventure that continues to this day. More about "the great escape" later.
It has been almost 6 months since DH and I made the hour and a half drive to Meyer's Hatchery and started the journey of raising backyard (barnyard) chickens for our own delicious and safe eggs.
Meyer's called our chickens golden buffs, and was there a bunch of them that Saturday morning in July. We arrived at the tail end of Saturday morning pick-up of started hens. We checked in and got our receipt...I had already paid online for the girls...and then headed to the huge barn housing I don't even know how many hens...both white and golden buffs. We had taken two large dog crates to take the girls home in, riding in style in the back of the enclosed pick-up. It was cool and cloudy that day; perfect traveling weather for July.
I should probably say at this point that I have NO farm experience whatsoever, except, of course, for my first day of college at the Ohio State University when I walked...yes, walked...across the cow field for my 9 a.m. class in the Ag building...Rural Sociology 'cause regulay Sociology was closed...and I didn't know about bus service. But that is another story, and I digress...
The knowledgable gentleman distributing hens took our receipt and grabbed three girls by their feet from a large cage and deposited them in one of our crates. He grabbed 3 more, placed them in our other crate, closed the door and we were off.
We arrived home 90 uneventful minutes later and carried the crates to our redied pen and gingerly opened the crate doors. After a little encouragement, the girls exited the crates and entered their new home. And thus began an adventure that continues to this day. More about "the great escape" later.