"Hello?" I said.
"Mrs. Pavliska?" said a young male voice. Sounded like a camp counselor to me. What could be wrong?
"Yes," I said, with my mind racing.
"This is the post office in The Small Town Next to Your Small Town," the voice said.
So what? What did he want? My mind was a mess.
"Your chicks are here. They'll be at your post office at 8:00."
This was not a prank. We were, indeed, expecting live chicks to come in the mail.
He hung up. Was he like totally laughing his rear off with his buddies at the post office? Why OH WHY, couldn't my post office just have called me at 8:00, when the chicks arrived? Wouldn't that have been better? Wouldn't it have made like a zillion times more sense? I can only imagine that the kid at the post office had a mean streak.
Jasper, of course, heard the phone and was up watching the yoga lady on television. I tried to go back to bed, but then Schnitzel wanted out, then Camille got up.....you get the idea.
At 7:30 I left to go get the chicks. I woke Joel and told him to get their area ready, complete with heat lamp and food, water, etc. Yes, yes, yes, we should have done this sooner. But we are what we are, and what we are is a big old sloppy group of procrastinators.
We heard the chicks peeping as soon as we walked into the post office. There was much fighting in the backseat on the way home between Camille and Jasper, both of whom wanted to hold the box. They could see the fuzzy little critters through the air holes. Very adorable.
When we got home we found Joel still rinsing out waterers and feeders....the chicks sat peeping in their box while we got everything ready. I put a little bit of sugar in their water, mixed grit and feed for the feeder, put the fluff in the splashy pool we were using for a brooder and covered it with paper towels so they wouldn't get spindle-legged (I just read a chicken book)...and got ready to set up their heat lamp. It was broken, of course. I called Jeff who led me on a wild goose chase through the garage looking for one that he "thought we had..." The end result of this was a trip to Tractor Supply to get a heat lamp. Whew! Finally, by 10:00 - all the chicks were settled in.
In the chicken book, there was a section about what to look for in your chicks when they arrive. Something called "pasty butt" was listed. Sounds attractive, right? If a chick were to have pasty butt, you would have to remove it or their little bottoms could become obstructed and they wouldn't be able to poop. Guess what? One of the little stinkers had pasty butt. So I have two sunburned calves and one pasty-butt chick. I had to scrape it off and it was really stuck on. I had to moisten it, first. He still isn't looking as good as the other chicks. I am not the kind of person who does this sort of thing easily.
I am having a hell of a time keeping Camille off of the chicks.
Because I don't have enough to do, I have also been collecting some items for two Darfuri families who have settled in San Antonio. Tomorrow morning at 7:00 I have to take it to a friend who will deliver it...
Well, I have a lot more to say but it is late and I am tired and in two days Jeff comes home and then in one more, Ellie does! There is light at the end of my pasty butt tunnel....
Sardine Mama
First facebook and now this blog - like I need more reasons to sit at the computer. :) I've been sitting here for over an hour reading your blog. Love it!
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