I am grateful beyond measure for last year’s wonderful and easy first experience in raising spring chicks. Yes, I had a bit of a blip with Princess Puny last year, but she soon recovered and is now a hearty girl who gives us an egg quite often every day. I had thought starting this year’s spring chicks would be equally as joyful and successful. Did I get a surprise!
This year’s effort at raising chicks has gone haywireflooey. I have lost one chick–she didn’t wander off, she died–and the two remaining chicks are sickly.
In short, I am staring failure dead in the face. My first response to this was to wail to my husband: “What did I do?” That was also my second and third response, and what I think I meant more than actually what did I do was, “Those stupid chicks, how dare they, and why is this so hard, poor me!”
Then I settled down and jerked myself up, so to speak. Self-pity and self-recrimination never helped anything. It does not change the fiasco, and my wailing was making my husband crazy.
The first decision was whether or not to keep the sick chicks, or get rid of them and start again with a fresh batch. I decided to keep the little sick chicks. They were, after all, stubbornly still alive. I decided to see what I could do with where we were, to learn what more I could about where I may have done wrong, and how to tend sick little chicks. I figure I’ll be strengthening compassion and patience, too (in me, not in them).
My husband’s response was: “They’ll either get better or die.”
I’ve decided to chronicle this journey and hopefully keep notes in order to help me in the future. The idea struck for having a blog just for the purpose of keeping track of my chicken adventures (since they are mounting), so I have started Gluten-free Nana and her Girls. If you want to follow along on the chicken adventures, pop on over.
I am asking myself: “How do I get myself into these things? I mean, really!”