The slick chicks

It was finally dry and bright this morning, so we ventured over to our neighbours dairy farm to see the new calves and watch the big girls get milked.  Our eldest daughter was fascinated by it all.  She is really into animals at the minute.  I’m determined though to make her aware of our food and where it all comes from.  Even the, this is Daisy, one day she might end up as a Big Mac stuff!

She eats chicken and I make a point of telling her it is chicken and so far she hasn’t made the association with the fact that she has pet chickens.  She knows they lay eggs for her, she knows chicks come from eggs, but she still loves a boiled egg.  Hopefully this will continue and I won’t have to face an attack of “oh no mummy, I’m eating my chickens!”

Speaking of her chickens we came home to find Minnie (the black one) running across the front lawn.  They have a lovely coop and a run of 30 feet in our orchard, but Minnie is determined everyday to make her escape from Colditz.  I swear we are going to rename her Steve McQueen.  The irony is once she gets out, she panics and wants back in again.  You can almost see the other 2 roll their eyes at her.  If she wasn’t such a brilliant layer, she’d be wrapped in foil and slow roasting for Sunday lunch!

The slick chicks

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