After three days of calling my local post office to ask if any of their boxes there were making cluck-clucking sounds, I finally called the Omlet company to see if they had any leads on my chickens. Sadly, it turned out that my much anticipated chickens would be be delayed for two to four weeks.

Frankly, in two to four weeks I will be traveling or otherwise indisposed. So I took off to the local Amish market to see what they had to say about my chicken situation. That is where I fell in love.

Meet my new baby chickens.

Here’s Olivia.

I am told that Olivia is a White Rock chicken. She will grow up to be the prototypical white chicken that we saw in our children’s books. At two weeks, she is shy and does a good bit of peeping. She has warmed up nicely to being handled in just a few days.

Olivia is named after my maternal grandmother. Grandma Olivia was a bit, uh, prickly. Let’s hope that Olivia is a bit more friendly–and doesn’t bite.

This is Maxine.

Maxine is a Polish chicken. That means that when she grows up to be a big chicken she will have a fancy head of feathers that resembles a lady’s Easter bonnet. At two weeks, Maxine is very vocal. She makes all manner of PEEP PEEP sounds. When you pick her up, she makes a little chirp sound.

Maxine is named after my grandma Olivia’s younger sister Maxine. Maxine never married, but had a career, traveled and loved fine things, good conversation and–EXERCISE. I was fortunate enough to celebrate Maxine’s 90th birthday luncheon back in January. She explained how she still lifted weights three times a week and stayed in touch with any number of friends, young and old.

This is Minnie Ruth.

Minnie Ruth is an Araucana chicken, although not likely a purebred. Although she is supposed to be the same age as the other chicks, she is quite a bit larger and is usually the chick the other two gather around for protection and warmth.

Minnie Ruth is named after my father’s mom. She was the mother of seven children. She adored eating, Western romance novels and soap operas. She believed everything she ever heard or read, including what was published in the National Enquirer. She never met anyone she didn’t like and always had a childlike joy in the smallest things that life brought.

Perhaps you can see why I named my new chickens after family?

Join me in welcoming my new chickens. Long live the chickens!

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