With a cluck, cluck here…

Ever since we made our big move to Northern California, we have had to go without fresh eggs from our backyard hens.

And yes, we purchased some adorable chicks in February, but let’s face it – the price you pay for falling in love with adorable fluff balls is having to wait 5-6 months for your first egg.

So when we heard that someone in the next town needed to find a home for their year-old pullets (coop and all), we practically fell over ourselves to figure out how to transport them to our farm.

Of course, since we have a puppy (as yet untested with chickens), plus lots of wild predators in the area, we put Building a Run to the top of our farm To-Do list.

There’s something cheerful, welcoming, and homey about the sound of chickens clucking in the yard.

It also makes the farm feel more, well, farm-like. 😊

Welcome, Henriettas!

Thank you for the fresh eggs!

They appear to be Red Star hens – all six of them, and they’re great layers of large brown eggs!

“Please tell me; how is it that you are able to talk all of the sudden?” Asked Dorothy. “I thought hens could only cluck and cackle.” “Why, as for that,” answered the yellow hen thoughtfully, “I’ve clucked and cackled all my life, and never spoken a word before this morning, that I can remember. But when you asked a question, a minute ago, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to answer you. So I spoke, and I seem to keep on speaking, just as you and other human beings do. Strange, isn’t it?” “Very,” replied Dorothy. “But if we were in the magical Land of Oz, I wouldn’t think it so queer, because many of the animals can talk in that country.”

from Ozma of Oz (1907) by Frank L. Baum