
*please note I hesitantly use the term 'downtown' as it is comprised of a smattering of tasting rooms and a few shops most locals can't afford to frequent.*
The confusion of the kids becomes obvious when we pull up,
'um, this is not where we get chickens!'
Oh yes it is!
The elderly farmer in line behind us took on the same look of wonderment as the kids, when our chirping parcel was placed on the counter for inspection.
'How did you get chicks in the mail?!? The Internet?!?'
after I explained how it was less expensive to over night them from Texas then to buy locally, I magically transformed from highbrow poultry purchaser, to thrifty mom. To my own surprise he then inquired if I had checked 'Craigslist', which I told him I had and they were still more expensive at the time we ordered. Which brings us back to our brown, white and tan fluff ball. She is not alone by any means and the other 9 are equally adorable and aptly named, but 'Chipmunk' has been claimed as my own and therefore will be chronicled here, for my own personal amusement. We had a relatively good success rate with raising chi

I know you're as intrigued as I, and so begins the adventures of Chipmunk.
*please note for any chicken breed nazi's out there, I'm referring to her as an araucana because that is what my invoice says, I do realize she is more then likely an easter egger. Those non-nazi's have no clue what I'm talking about and this is for the best.
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