One sound asleep on his feet. Another fascinated by her reflection in the fireplace glass. One atop the feeder dining with a friend below. They posed for the photo about like any group of kids...with complete disinterest in me!
Daisy was named for her sweet disposition.
These gentle hands were so cozy it became naptime!
All the kids were enamored with our suburban chick adventure.
For me, it brought back my farm memories when I was a very little girl. I would put my hand in my grandmother's and we would walk across the yard to visit the chicken coop. Together we would uncover the wonders from uncovering freshly laid eggs to nurturing the springtime chicks huddled under the heat lamp chirping incessantly. In my child's eyes, I loved the magic of the chicken coop.
Paul Revere became the black chick that always cheeped on top of the feeder. Lemon was another yellow chick who could be a bit of a sourpuss sometimes. Peanut butter was merely the creamy color.
Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!
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