Baby chicks
Baby chicks. Who can resist?
When we lived on our mini-farm, D felt the urge to raise chickens. From his source, the minimum order was 25. D wanted layers and chickens to eat. (Now that I put it that way, it does sound a tad barbaric.) The catch was the minimum order was per type. Fifty chickens? Yes, indeed.
As I recall, we had enough eggs to feed a Marine platoon. D 'processed' one broiler and that was enough of that. Now, we glance at these irresistable images on our way to Publix and keep on truckin'.


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