This is the smile of a person who wonders if her shoes will ever be the same, and has found that somehow she actually is going through with getting two (Two!) chickens. And these are the arms of a person who has wanted chickens ever since he realized they existed and (might) be a possibility.
Sunny and Starry came from a lovely little farm (Four and a half acres that must be right up against the city limits, not 5 minutes from town; made me want to sell something and start house looking right away.) which also had about 50 blueberry bushes, a big lavender patch, a huge vegetable garden, the kind you till with a tractor, goats, pigs, and, of course, chickens. The chicken people used to live on our street, and come to the neighborhood after-Christmas party as alumni. When we saw them this year they let slip about the availability of the chickens, and we've been speeding towards them ever since.
Chickens, it turns out, do not really want to stay in a cardboard box, and if you don't hold it tightly closed they will jump out.
Once home the chickens were installed in the lovely coop and hen house (Mollie's re-purposed dog house) that Auntie Chris made for them. This deserves its own post and photos; if it ever stops raining.
So far Sunny and Starry have yet to learn to use the chicken ramp to get back into their hen house, but I'm sure they'll get it pretty soon. We're still waiting on eggs, but in the meantime we have enjoyed lots and lots of "chicken TV" staring at them out the dining room window --- grooming, pecking, scratching, resting, hopping, grooming some more.
Liam was totally, entirely beside himself. Last night he was actually in tears; he told me he loves the chickens so much. "Oh thank you Mommy. . .thank you. . .thank you for the chickens." Well, you're welcome small one, I read on the inter-webs that pet chickens can live 8-10 years, luckily they're already starting to grow on me too.