They still look small in these pictures, but our Dixie Chicks are really growing. Their tail feathers and wing feathers are really coming in. They chase each other, hopping and flapping their little wings.
This picture really shows off the wing and tail feathers of Myrtle, one of our Rhode Island Reds...Also, at the pet store, Pyper and I picked up 2 dozen "super worms." These super worms are gnarly. They look like a cross between a meal worm and a centipede. Pyper LOVED feeding the chicks these super worms. I was not keen on handling these VERY wiggly, ugly, nasty things, but my daughter had no problem with it. She reached down, picked them up between her index finger and thumb and examined each one for several seconds before throwing them to the peeping crowd below. She would then clap and proclaim, "YAY!" Pyper is one tough chick.
Pyper was VERY excited about the "ish" (fish). That's 18 month talk for ya. She was really more interested playing in trough water. We decided to buy 2 goldfish for each 100 gallon water trough to keep down mosquito larvae and the algae in the tanks...
I'm glad Shannon told me to float the bags with the fish in them so the bag water would become the same temperature as the trough water. I let them sit in the trough for about 30 minutes or more to ensure our little goldfish would be ok.
These are how tiny the fish are. The lady at our local pet store said they will grow as large as my hand (even though I have really small hands), because they grow as large as their tank. She also said a goldfish's lifespan is 25 years. I doubt our little guys will make it that long, but who knows? Maybe they will!
Now, as you read this blog, please know this was not an easy endeavor for me. It was POURING down rain when we got into the car from the pet store. Within the 10 minutes it took for me to get home, it was a MONSOON. I left Pyper watching Aristo-Cats in the car, while I ran in and changed from my work clothes into my barn clothes...mud boots included.
I then got the umbrella, and perched Pyper on one hip, holding the "bags-o-fish," super worms, fish food, and chick gravel in the other hand. We trotted to the barn, trying hard not to get wet, Pyper squealing (she loves the rain), and I threw open the coop door, dropped Pyper in the shavings, and dropped the bag. After leaving Pyper in the care of the chicks while I acclimated the fish to the water troughs, I booked it back into the coop.
We fed the Dixie Chicks, watched them preen and settle down for the night, then went and released the fish. Luckily by this time, it had stopped raining. We hiked up the hill to the top pasture to release the fish in the top tank. Pyper wanted to play in the water more than release the fish, so I let her for a little bit. Then the horses decided to follow us up.
Pyper by this time was a muddy mess, and refused to leave the water trough. I was tired and ready to go in, so I picked her up, with her kicking, screaming and trying to hit me. The horses trotted behind us all the way down the hill and then BOOM! I lost my footing, and we went down. I landed in such a way to protect Pyper, but not my hip. We slid down about 10 feet in the mud, me 24 weeks pregnant, holding a toddler and the whole time, Pyper screams, "YAY!" I'm glad she thought it was fun. It was laughable after the fact, but I was irritated that we both needed baths after all that.
Whew. I'm exhausted. So was Pyper, she fell asleep with no fight. Ahhhh...the life of a hobby farmer. I wouldn't change one minute of it.