Hello all. My name is Sarah. By day, I'm a forensic psychologist. The rest of the time, I'm mama to five kiddos and three step-kiddos, five of whom are grown (two and a half have flown the coop), a nine-year old Shar-pei Lab mix named Honey and new babies that I'll describe shortly. We recently relocated from Texas to Wyoming.
I grew up with chickens. As a tiny girl, I was terrified by Grandma's rooster who chased me. He was much taller than me, as I remember. Then, we had bantam roosters who chased my mom and me, but not my brother or dad. All throughout high school, I had to carry 5-gallon buckets of water to the chicken houses every day, which I hated (I still have incredible biceps to show for it!) I swore I would never have anything to do with chickens as long as I lived.
Somehow, chickens, like gardening, got into my blood. Gardening happened first. We lived way out in the country away from town, and my parents forced me to pull weeds in my mother's impossibly huge garden to earn money for the fair (the only chance I had all summer to see friends). I swore I would never have anything to do with dirt or plants as long as I lived. That lasted until I got married. I had a curious burning desire to grow a tomato plant on the balcony of our city apartment. My husband at the time thought I was crazy. Sadly, we were mismatched because his dream was to live and work in Manhattan -- I wanted to live in the woods. We compromised on the suburbs. From then on, I grew something, up to and including an amazing impossibly huge garden.
About 10 years ago, we moved for my internship, and I suddenly got afflicted with the chicken bug. I built chicken tractors next to my garden, and the rest was history. I acquired every chicken book available, appeased my neighbors with eggs, fudged the city ordinance by maintaining my mother-in-law apartment qualified me for another household's worth of chickens. Somehow, I never came across this site. I converted many of my friends and coworkers to become chicken parents. Sadly, I had to rehome my flock when we moved.
Anyway, the happy news about springtime, resurrection, new life, new starts (I remarried last year April 26): I have nine new babies! Francesca (Light Brahma); Oregano (Black Sex Link); Chirpaderp (Ancona); Primrose (Buff Orpington); Cindy (New Hampshire); Glozell (Black Cochin); Jellybean (Golden Sex-Link); Emma (Black Jersey Giant); and Coco (Blue Laced Red Wyandotte).
I look forward to getting to know folks here and sharing news and adventures and most of all, love for these amazing creatures.
I grew up with chickens. As a tiny girl, I was terrified by Grandma's rooster who chased me. He was much taller than me, as I remember. Then, we had bantam roosters who chased my mom and me, but not my brother or dad. All throughout high school, I had to carry 5-gallon buckets of water to the chicken houses every day, which I hated (I still have incredible biceps to show for it!) I swore I would never have anything to do with chickens as long as I lived.
Somehow, chickens, like gardening, got into my blood. Gardening happened first. We lived way out in the country away from town, and my parents forced me to pull weeds in my mother's impossibly huge garden to earn money for the fair (the only chance I had all summer to see friends). I swore I would never have anything to do with dirt or plants as long as I lived. That lasted until I got married. I had a curious burning desire to grow a tomato plant on the balcony of our city apartment. My husband at the time thought I was crazy. Sadly, we were mismatched because his dream was to live and work in Manhattan -- I wanted to live in the woods. We compromised on the suburbs. From then on, I grew something, up to and including an amazing impossibly huge garden.
About 10 years ago, we moved for my internship, and I suddenly got afflicted with the chicken bug. I built chicken tractors next to my garden, and the rest was history. I acquired every chicken book available, appeased my neighbors with eggs, fudged the city ordinance by maintaining my mother-in-law apartment qualified me for another household's worth of chickens. Somehow, I never came across this site. I converted many of my friends and coworkers to become chicken parents. Sadly, I had to rehome my flock when we moved.
Anyway, the happy news about springtime, resurrection, new life, new starts (I remarried last year April 26): I have nine new babies! Francesca (Light Brahma); Oregano (Black Sex Link); Chirpaderp (Ancona); Primrose (Buff Orpington); Cindy (New Hampshire); Glozell (Black Cochin); Jellybean (Golden Sex-Link); Emma (Black Jersey Giant); and Coco (Blue Laced Red Wyandotte).
I look forward to getting to know folks here and sharing news and adventures and most of all, love for these amazing creatures.
