Anonymous Poster
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- Sep 27, 2005
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When I heard about green and blue eggs, nothing would do until I got me some blue and green egg chickens. Americaunas they called them. I had to wait two months and earn some credit on my so-called credit card before I could send away for the chicks, and when I got the phone call from the local post office that my babies had arrived I couldn't get there fast enough.
I brought them home and tucked them into the little coop with the lights in it that I had lovingly prepared weeks before their arrival. It was summer time, warm out, lots of fresh air and sunshine. They thrived.
Roughly four weeks after I got them a storm blew through. A bad one. The first thing I noticed upon pulling into the yard was the fact that the shed roof was missing. Apparently the wind had come through gusting up to sixty miles per hour. I raced around frantically in the pouring rain covering up feed and machinery and finally got everything stable. About that time my daughter came flying around the corner from the hen yard and informed me rather haltingly that the baby chicks were all strewn about the coop, wet and....not moving.
"What?!" I shouted.
One look at them and I was devastated. Their roof was still intact, but the rain had blown in from the sides and drenched them, then the cool wind had done it's bit and I had some motionless baby chicks on my hands. I wanted to cry!
Together we gathered them up. I don't know why. Only a few of them were barely peeping. By the time we got them into the house I was sniffling. As I searched for a light to set up hoping to put out enough warmth I was outright bawling. My baby green and blue egg chickens appeared to be gone. But something inside said, don't give up. Just don't give up.
I grabbbed a stack of dry clean towels and set to work drying them. After each one was dry I set it in into a laundry basket lined with towels and set under a flood lamp bulb in an old table lamp. Then I backed away, closed the door and went and sat on the couch. There was nothing left to do but wait and hope.
Barely twenty minutes later I heard a peep. Faint but distinct. I refused to get my hopes up. Some of them had been barely breathing and peeping before. Could have been the same ones.
I waited a full hour before I poked my head back through the bathroom door. Imagine my amazement and joy when I found that I had fluffly, dry, baby chicks all over the bathroom floor! Out of twenty four chicks I lost three, and to this day I am so grateful that that little voice in my head would not let me abandon hope.
My first little grape sized green egg was a monumental event. Everybody who knew me got a phone call even my sister long distance in Texas.
"I have a green egg! Right here in my hand!"
I now collect anywhere from one to two dozen green and blue eggs a day and I still wonder and marvel at these lovely natural easter eggs.
I brought them home and tucked them into the little coop with the lights in it that I had lovingly prepared weeks before their arrival. It was summer time, warm out, lots of fresh air and sunshine. They thrived.
Roughly four weeks after I got them a storm blew through. A bad one. The first thing I noticed upon pulling into the yard was the fact that the shed roof was missing. Apparently the wind had come through gusting up to sixty miles per hour. I raced around frantically in the pouring rain covering up feed and machinery and finally got everything stable. About that time my daughter came flying around the corner from the hen yard and informed me rather haltingly that the baby chicks were all strewn about the coop, wet and....not moving.
"What?!" I shouted.
One look at them and I was devastated. Their roof was still intact, but the rain had blown in from the sides and drenched them, then the cool wind had done it's bit and I had some motionless baby chicks on my hands. I wanted to cry!
Together we gathered them up. I don't know why. Only a few of them were barely peeping. By the time we got them into the house I was sniffling. As I searched for a light to set up hoping to put out enough warmth I was outright bawling. My baby green and blue egg chickens appeared to be gone. But something inside said, don't give up. Just don't give up.
I grabbbed a stack of dry clean towels and set to work drying them. After each one was dry I set it in into a laundry basket lined with towels and set under a flood lamp bulb in an old table lamp. Then I backed away, closed the door and went and sat on the couch. There was nothing left to do but wait and hope.
Barely twenty minutes later I heard a peep. Faint but distinct. I refused to get my hopes up. Some of them had been barely breathing and peeping before. Could have been the same ones.
I waited a full hour before I poked my head back through the bathroom door. Imagine my amazement and joy when I found that I had fluffly, dry, baby chicks all over the bathroom floor! Out of twenty four chicks I lost three, and to this day I am so grateful that that little voice in my head would not let me abandon hope.
My first little grape sized green egg was a monumental event. Everybody who knew me got a phone call even my sister long distance in Texas.
"I have a green egg! Right here in my hand!"
I now collect anywhere from one to two dozen green and blue eggs a day and I still wonder and marvel at these lovely natural easter eggs.