Hello Everyone! I am so excited to be here! Finding this website is like Christmas morning for a chicken lover, This is my first time on this form as a registered member and I am new to raising chickens, unless you want to count my brief love affair with them years ago. Let me tell you that story and you call tell me if it counts. As a child, I was given the opportunity to go on a week long adventure with my grandmother to visit an aunt who lived 5 hours away. That visit was very enjoyable and was going along just fine. However, my aunt we were staying with, made the mistake of taking me to my uncle's chicken farm. There, I not only fell in love with the chickens, but was told by my uncle that if I ever wanted any chickens, I knew where to find them. I was so taken by the idea of having my own chickens, that when we returned to my aunt's house that afternoon, I did something completely out of character for the very shy child that I was. I ran downstairs to my temporary bed and flung myself across it, crying and doing my best to cause enough racket to be noticed. Five minutes later, my grandma appeared, bewildered to see her normally silent granddaughter worked into a frenzy of immense proportions. Both of us embarrassed by this display of emotion, my grandma coaxed the problem out of me; I just had to get me some of those chickens! I can imagine the surprise on my mother's face when she received the phone call from my grandmother, explaining that I was making such a demand. Both must have known how serious I was about this request however, as I found myself returning home in a sweltering car, legs stuck to the seat, sweat pooling on my back, and chicks quietly pecking from the inside of a box placed carefully at my feet! Oh the bliss! Suffice it to say, the memories of that summer are some of the most vivid I have; the fondest being the hours I would spend on my swing set, young chicken on lap, swinging back and forth watching the back and forth head motion of my content companions. As we all know, all good things must come to and end and in this case, it was the day I realized that Sally Poo Poo and Aunt Jemima, my so named chickens, were in fact not chickens, but fine, strong roosters capable of stirring the neighborhood and those in the city beyond. I'm not quite sure what happened then. I was told by my sensitive parents that my feathered friends went to live at the farm down the road. It was a lovely farm with green rolling hills and I was soothed by the idea that at least these roosters were living a life of luxury. I've tried to block out the other bit of information that came not from my parents, but from my older sister who always seemed to have the inside scoop. She insists that instead, my two comrades were sold to a vagrant family to be turned into a weeks worth of stew. Hmmph. This spring, my son and I happened upon a farm store half a block from our home. Not knowing what was in a farm store, we ventured in, wide-eyed, scanning the isles and filtering our attention between the interesting and not so interesting goods. As we approached the rear of the store, we saw an assortment of cages and horse watering troughs bursting at the seams with an assortment of you guessed it, chicks! Oh what a heavenly moment! I had forgotten my snuffed out addiction to these funny footed creatures! But was I ever taken back to childhood and that love! Months later, as you probably guessed, I find myself surrounded by feathered babies, big and small. The babies we picked up that day at the feed store are not so infantile anymore. This week was our first to find the tasty orbs they so sweetly gift us with regularly now. A Rhode Island Red, two Barred Rocks, a young Americana, and two bantam chicks grace us with their charm every day....and I now remember why the Poo Poo was added to Sally's name! These girls sure know how to make a mess! It's impossible not to love them though! I look forward to meeting everyone and hearing about your own love affair with chickens!