Spring Chicks

I grew up on 10 acres.  My grandparents had a dairy farm.  At various times they also had rabbits and chickens.  I remember when I was young, we would go out there in the spring and, if we were lucky, they would have chicks.  Grandma kept them in a cardboard box next to the woodstove, and you could hear those cute little peeps from anywhere in the house.

Fast forward to today, where the only chickens my kids see are either at the county fair or in cellopane at the grocery store (and unrecognizable as the animal it was).  I'm still not sure that my kids understand that the chickens that we see at the fair and the chicken we eat are the same thing.  The same with any of the animals.  A can tell you that pork is a pig, but I don't think he really gets it.  I'm not looking forward to the day that it really sinks in.

But back to the topic of chicks...we may live smack dab in the middle of town, but we also live across the street from the feed mill, and next door to the owner's son.  This gives us certain privileges, like knowing when the baby chicks come in.  So yesterday we hustled over with B & C to see what we could see.

B was so proud of being big enough to hold the chick all by herself!  (And I was proud of her for not sqeezing too hard!)