I was originally setting out for something fun to do, that I had done in the second grade classroom. Hatch chicks. After talking about it, it turned pretty much into a project. Like, I had to document /everything/. List the tools I used, how I did it, my feelings over the whole hatching process, blahdeeblahblah. It was kind of neat, and alot more organized than it would've been, right? There was alot of iffyness over who the chickies would go to, but at the end of three weeks of chicken poo, it was decided they would go to a church friend, who has alot of land, 3 goats, and used to have chickens years back. He was the only one we could be pretty sure wouldn't eat my three babies. After a week of them being at their new house, two of them got eaten by a opossum. I had my cryfest, yeah. There was one left, though, right? And then, when their son (the dubbed primary caretaker-) was on a vacation, the last one is gone too. This sucks. It feels like this was all for nothing.