They're Gawky Teenagers Now

I remember looking up pictures of Buff Orpingtons and Barred (or Plymouth) Rock chickens when I first brought these bad girls home and being taken aback by how ugly they would become as they entered their awkward teenage years (weeks?). Perhaps it's a mother's love, but they don't seem to have ever become funny looking or ugly to me, and I'm pretty sure they've surpassed the ugly phase already and are well on their way to becoming lovely, healthy layers that will supply me with lots of yummy chicken tampons (this is how Hub refers to eggs; way before Howard Stern ever called them that, THANKYOU). If not, Hub will need to whip up some of his unreal-good BBQ sauce and the girls will become dinner.

We have been bringing the ladies out every afternoon, and now they get very angry if left in the house too long: trying to fly out of their box, knocking over their waterer, and generally being temperamental and rebellious teenagers. The plan was to move them outside permanently this weekend, but with stupid rain on the forecast, we may be forced to keep them indoors for a few more days, much to their dismay.

Trixie and Egg Carton (the Barred Rocks) are pretty much impossible to tell apart now, except that Trixie doesn't mind being held, while Egg Carton has a hissy fit if you try to pick her up. Brat.

McNugget and Peep (the Buff Orpingtons) like to fight a lot. Let's just say that it would be to their advantage NOT to end up being roosters.

So far, they don't like radishes but love radish greens, balk at broccoli except the leaves, and eat bugs and worms like there's no tomorrow. They turned 6 (weeks) on Tuesday. I LOVE THEM.

"We're going to pout and face the wall because we're not outside."