The Moanstead: Drum roll please!

Nearly a week has gone by and we've posted nary a word about the chickens aside from the little teaser on the day they arrived. Well, ladies and gents, today is the day.

Last Friday, I was getting ready for work about 6:30am. The phone rings. Panic sets in, because who could possibly be calling at 6:30 am. It was the US Post Office. They were calling to tell me that my chickens had arrived and that I could pick them up anytime. So, down to the post office I went. Here's what they gave me.

And they were chirping. The chickens sang along to the radio with me the whole way home. If I recall correctly, they were particularly loud during My Sweet Lord by George Harrison. When I got them home, we threw some chick starter mash (food) into the bottom of a newspaper-lined plastic tub and put the chicks in.

We got a total of 5 Buff Orpington chicks. We had originally ordered those plus 5 Partridge Rocks. It seems the folks at Cackle Hatchery did a foolish thing and counted their chickens before they hatched, leaving them without the Partridge Rocks to fill our order.

The chicks were like little drunk people when they first arrived, they were very unsteady on their feet, fell asleep standing up, and used the bathroom where ever they happened to be standing. They have since gotten considerably more sturdy and have even started putting on some wing feathers. After the first few days, we decided the plastic tub wasn't going to be big enough, so I threw together this little gem.

That's them gathered around the feeder. I feel like I've been wordy enough, so here's a handful of photos of them during their leisure time. You'll have to excuse the poor lighting in some of them, the red heat lamp makes it difficult to get good photos and if you turn it off, they get a little panicked.

They eat.