Yay!!

And then there was 11...

Mark loves to call me oblivious or Oblivia (which is actually a name I made up) but sometimes, if the shoe fits... Mark didn't bring home 10 chickens but 11. I started counting these buggers as they learned to fly and escape their "coop" and we'd come home to find them lounging all over. Gross! Time for you guys to the grow up and move out of the house!

You see that bigger chicken 3 up and to the left? That's Roostie- as Mark likes to call him. He's pure trouble and as it turns out, a ROOSTER! Hence the name Roostie...

Oh and see the nice plywood interior of this coop? No more cardboard boxes for these guys. We have a new and improved coop that Mark constructed. Now, this is his first attempt at carpentry so lets give him some props for growing up into a man but I like to call this place the ghettoop (ghetto and coop). It aint pretty but it does the trick! Picutres to come!!!

And so it begins...

Ahhh, the babies. As spring arrives in the beach community of Oak Hills in the pastoral country of eastern Long Island, so too do the lives of 10, yes 10 baby chicks. Here we have 4 Aracucanas, 4 Buff Orpingtongs and 2 Rhode Island Reds all running a muck in their tiny cardboard box of a coop.

Since Mark is an egg slut and I am of hippie descent and destined to become both my mother and my father, the obvious progression for the lives of "Mark and Olivia" could only lead to these 10 wonderful, sweetly stinky, feathered friends. Not only will they give us the bounty of protein goodness but being such sweet natured animals, a break from the annoying and frustrating nature of two male dogs... WHO BETTER KEEP THEIR PAWS OFF OF THEM!!!