Peace, Love, and Chickens… Week One
We Bought Chicks With No Clue What We Were Doing
There are people who wake up one day and decide to buy a sports car.
Apparently, I woke up one day and decided to buy six Brahma chicks.
I wish I could tell you this was a carefully researched, deeply strategic agricultural decision. It was not. It was more like: Look at those fluffy little weirdos. I love them immediately.
And just like that, we became chicken people.
The Beginning of the Chaos
We brought home six baby chicks and a plastic tote.
That tote quickly became:
nursery
dining room
daycare
emergency room
tiny bird nightclub
No one warns you how much noise six chicks can make. During the day it sounded like a tiny casino full of chirping gamblers. At night? Silence. They’d pile under the brooder plate like angelic little marshmallows and sleep.
I would stand there listening to them breathe like a proud mother who had absolutely no business being this emotionally invested.
Why Brahmas?
Honestly?
Because they were beautiful.
Big feet. Feathered legs. Calm faces. They looked like the kind of chickens who would either become wise old grandmothers or run a protection racket. They are called “gentle giants” and I liked that.
I later learned Brahmas grow huge, which feels very on-brand for me. Of course I accidentally chose the giant breed.
Learning in Real Time
I did not know what I was doing.
So I started doing what many women before me have done when suddenly responsible for lives:
watched closely
cleaned constantly
worried often
Googled everything
asked questions
adjusted quickly
loved fiercely
Turns out that gets you pretty far.
I learned about brooder warmth, chick food, water spills, pasty butt, wing growth, grit, mealworms, and the fact that chicks can go from precious babies to tiny velociraptors in under a week.
The Unexpected Part
What surprised me most was how peaceful it felt.
Their little chirps became background music in the house.
Their movements made me smile.
Their tiny heads would cock sideways to stare at me like I was the most confusing creature they’d ever seen.
And maybe I was.
Eddie Enters the Story
My husband, who may have believed these were my chicks, was quickly recruited into service.
He gave treats. He laid in the grass with them. He talked about how one day he’d come home from work, call them, and they’d come running.
That’s how it starts, sir.
One minute you’re “helping.”
Next minute you’re emotionally attached to poultry.
Week One Truth
We bought chicks with no clue what we were doing.
But sometimes love, attention, and willingness to learn count for more than expertise.
The girls were fed. Warm. Safe. Watched over.
And somehow, so was I.
What I’m Learning
Sometimes the best things begin with imperfect starts.
Sometimes peace shows up covered in fluff and screaming for snacks.
Sometimes a woman doesn’t need a fancy life.
Sometimes she just needs dirt, a little land, and six happy chickens.
—Niki