Chickens

I've wanted a couple of chickens for a long time; unfortunately, Cliff didn't want them.  For one thing, I had hopes of securing some nifty sort of pen, or even better, a chicken tractor that I could move from place to place so my chickens would have access to grass each day.  Cliff really didn't want to get involved with anything that requires building something or buying something.  He also knows how my interests can wane, and if I lost interest in my flock, all that work and money would be invested for nothing.  
Yesterday we went to Feldman's to get acetylene and oxygen, and I noticed all the peeping baby chicks for sale.  I looked at the different varieties and saw there were some Barred Rock pullets that were fully feathered out.  That means no shoving them in a box and keeping a light on them, because they can handle the weather just fine.  

I hunted Cliff up and asked him what he thought about keeping a couple of chickens in Mandy's old pen, which has only been used for lawn mower storage since my dog, Mandy, died four years ago.  
To my surprise, he agreed.  
So I came home with two pullets, Gertrude and Lois (after Cliff's remaining two aunts).  Don't ask me which is which; they're identical.  

Yesterday they seemed unhappy to be out in the big world, with only each other for a friend.  This morning, though, their peeping took on a more cheerful tone.  I'm going to have to buy a feeder and waterer for them, but for now they're eating and drinking from cut-down Folgers cans.  
At least I have somewhere to go with my table scraps now.  
They will have to stay in the pen; we witnessed a neighbor's rooster being attacked by a hawk one time, and the only thing that saved him was his weight.  The hawk couldn't lift off with him.