There is perhaps no greater sign of spring in these parts than the arrival of baby chicks to the local feed store. I say this because some years, spring brings blizzards, some years dry wind and dust, some years the proverbial showers and resulting May flowers. In short, you never know what you are going to get.
But one thing we can be sure of is that every Friday from late March through April, the farm supply store will get a fresh shipment of just-born chicks.
Back when I was new to the prairie, I did not know this. My first introduction to feed store chicks occurred when I walked in looking for seed potatoes and was greeted by sharp, raspy and very loud voices emanating from an unknown location inside the store. They sounded exactly like the toy chicks I’d received in my childhood Easter basket, which is what I assumed they were.
Instead, I rounded a corner and was summarily delighted by the most adorable spectacle I’d ever encountered: three large tubs containing dozens of fluffy yellow babies. I’ve learned a lot since then and now avoid all feed stores this time of year unless I want new chicks, because I know when I hear those tiny peeps, I will be powerless to stop myself from bringing a few home.
Meanwhile, I recently put a query up on our local Facebook group buy-sell page to see if anyone had a rooster they were looking to give away. The answer was a resounding yes. So the ranch is now one rooster richer. All signs point to grocery costs continuing to increase, and the last time eggs got really expensive, it also, not surprisingly, got a lot harder to find laying hens.
We haven’t had a rooster in years, mostly because the secret nests and resulting surprise chicks were getting out of hand. But, if eggs and chickens keep getting more expensive, then surprise chicks would be welcome, and the idea of letting the hens raise the next generation of layers so I don’t have to do it myself sounds awesome.
Best laid plans, right? Yet, somehow, last week I also called the nearest farm supply store to see what kind of chicks they had … and then drove the 45 miles to see them in person.
It’s been unseasonably warm here for weeks, and though the day we drove to the feedstore, the weather had shifted; there was no snow in the forecast.
As soon as we turned north on the highway, however, it started to snow hard. For about 10 miles, it was an honest-to-gosh mini blizzard, and I was tempted to turn back.
I decided I would be better served to get out the other side of it instead of having to drive through it twice, and this proved true. By the time we reached our destination, the skies and roads were clear.
Which proves the original statement as well. Out here on the plains, we learn to expect the unexpected — and that includes surprise spring blizzards — but as soon as we entered the feedstore, we heard the peeping, a peeping we now enjoy all day long from a large Tupperware bin in our bathroom.
Turns out I am not going to be raising these chicks by myself, however. While the care and keeping of chicks used to be solely my responsibility, the kids are now old enough to help, and they no longer need my supervision.
They are not too old to enjoy playing with them, though, so Nugget, Gerald, Walla Walla, Cece and Tim-Tim might be the best socialized chicks we’ve ever raised.
On their first night home, in fact, they got to enjoy a screening of Jurassic Park, snuggled on their surrogate parents’ laps. “So we can introduce them to their ancestors,” my son said pragmatically.
Consequently, I am going to pat myself on the back for unabashedly making the same mistake. These little ones are bringing a lot of joy and spring into our house, no matter the weather.
