One month on, and we've lost our little chicks as we knew them. Gone are the cute little feet, the soft touchable down, and the convenient palm-sized proportions. In their place are a couple of large, awkward, screeching monsters who continue to gobble food and produce copious amounts of manure but have yet to bring forth a single egg. We've lost track of who's who except for Katie-hole (she seems dead set on establishing dominance).
Rar!
The old blue bin just wasn't cutting it any more, so the little monsters have been transferred to a larger cardboard abode, complete with roosts. They're learned how to use their wings so we make sure to secure the roof after every visit.
In theory the weather is supposed to get warmer, and once that happens and the rest of their feathers come in, the chickens have quite the castle waiting for them. Carl spent many long, hard hours constructing the best outhouse ever, complete with movable run. I contributed by sketching on the crooked moon.
That's the news from the funny farm. I've finally purchased seeds, so who knows, we may even have a garden at some point. Oh, the joys of urban homesteading.
In theory the weather is supposed to get warmer, and once that happens and the rest of their feathers come in, the chickens have quite the castle waiting for them. Carl spent many long, hard hours constructing the best outhouse ever, complete with movable run. I contributed by sketching on the crooked moon. 
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