We are slowly adapting to rural living.

Kind of.

Well, maybe not.

We love the chickens, and the eggs, but still have a lot to learn.

Especially the 7yr old.

She is an amazing nurturer, and loves those chickens and rabbits like family.

Passionately, and loyally. These aren’t chickens, these are helpless creatures who need tender care and attention.

Remember, she is the one who freaked out when we pulled the April Fools joke.

My dad was down for the Easter weekend. Now, he may be a little more farm savvy than we are. He grew up on various types of farms, drank goats milk in the morning and even dealt with the mink . .  you know, when they made coats out of them?

Yup – he has seen all the good and bad (and ugly) of farm life.

While farms to me (and our 7yr old) are still full of singing pigs and happy mice (yes, just like Babe)

So, when grampa here grabbed the chickens by their legs and turned them upside down for a quick and efficient dusting, the 7 yr old freaked.

Like majorly.

To see a little, wafer thin blonde thing throw herself at a grown man all in the efforts to protect a chicken left us all a little stunned.

And then, me, pulling this protective and loyal child up to the house as she is literally spitting curses at my father . ..

well, it proves that we just aren’t “full farm” people yet.

And god forbid how we will deal with a chicken when and if it gets sick . . . apparently the hubby is drawing the line at taking a chicken to the vet.

**Please note, no chickens were hurt, and all were thoroughly dusted for mites.