Monday, April 16, 2012

The Hands Of A Farmer. . .

What do you think of when you picture the hands of  a farmer?



Grease Stained


While all those things may be true, perhaps the most crucial is the ability to be. . .





My man's hands are all of those things.

I was awoken from my nap to the sounds of "peeping" coming from my kitchen.
Earlier in the day I had told Farm Boy about one of our girls that I thought wasn't doing well.
I had noticed the day before that she seemed sleepy and slightly smaller than the rest of the chicks, but when I went down this morning you could tell that she was noticeably smaller (they are getting bigger everyday) and kept huddling in the  edges of their box.

He brought her up to the house and filled a small cup with water and dipped her beak into it.

She drank, and drank, and drank some more. . .It appears that this little girl has not followed the lead of the other chicks and figured out the water system that we are using, so she hasn't been drinking. It is amazing that just the lack of water would affect her size so much.

After she drank her fill several times she perked up quite a bit and was content to rest on Farm Boy's arm and "peep" away happily.

Our plan is to check on her several times a day and make sure she gets fresh water along with trying to teach her how to use the water-er that the other girls are doing quite well with. . .you can read about the technical stuff here on the Even Meadow site.

No matter what happens, little fluffy chick, you can rest knowing that you are in good hands.


  1. That's very sweet.
    Hands are one window to the soul.

  2. Awww... what a sweet story :-) Nice photos, too!