A few weeks ago we went and met the nice ladies who lay our eggs, a flock of Barred Rock chickens. Last week we got the news that their human has decided that she’s going to sell off the flock and go traveling. Damn.
The last egg lady we had works at the hospital, and we don’t really want to go there unless we’re in need of emergency treatment after Amethyst’s lousy experience working there with a hostile clique of dumpy old women with nothing better to do than viciously harass those newly hired until they quit. The egg lady before that gave up after the second time a bear cleaned out her hen house. (Me, I’d have a bear skin rug and fresh eggs, too. I get all kinds of aggressive when animals attack my livestock. Or my people. Or me. I haven’t lost a fight with a wild animal yet… ‘cuz I’m just that damnably stupid.)
While preparing my breakfast this morning the chicken crazies caught me again, and I ended up browsing the Murray McMurray Hatchery web site yet again. That sealed it. I’m going to get serious about drawing up my chicken tractor plans so we can build it and fill it up with Buff Orpingtons in Spring.
The egg lady who’s going out of business looked askance at us when we mentioned the Buff Orp, as she’s crazy about the Barred Rock. Chicken people get that way, some of ’em. Though not the great egg producers that the Plymouth Rocks (of which the Barred Rock is a variety) are, the Orpingtons are friendlier and a bit heavier, and with it being just the two of us we don’t need amazing egg production. We need friendly and fun.
Guess who’s probably going to be posting chicken pictures way too often next year. 😀