May. Welcome, Dear Friend.

So it's May.

I'm not sure there's really much difference between the last day of April and the first day of May. But just living within the bounds of a month that represents warmth and growth is quite enough to put me in a pretty good place.

It's not so much that I've got great things scratched out on a May to-do list either. It's more that I look forward to open windows, the smell of fresh-cut sod and the rhythmic click-click-swoooooosh of a Rainbird sprinkler feeding the thirsty soil.

If April showers bring may flowers. Mayflowers bring - despite what the childhood jokes suggests - simply more flowers. And with enough bad news swirling around us to make anyone swear they were living in the dead of winter, May offers a new dawn, a new day, a new energy.

Meet the Girls.

It's true. We've caved into the desire to be hip, with-it and altogether in-the-moment. (Check around. It seems like everyone is buying chickens!) We've gone out and purchased chickens. A half a dozen to be exact. And since our intent is to provide a steady-stream of eggs for us, our neighbors and our friends, we've made sure all the chicks are female. (Plus, we don't need a hormone-filled rooster waking us up each morning as the sun peeks over the mountain tops.)

For the next two weeks, the girls (as we call them) will be living in a large box in the very back bathroom eating, growing and going to the bathroom. It's already time for a taller box because one or two of the sisters finds their way up to the ledge of the box and sit there for a little roosting session.

The kids like them too (at least for now!) And we'll all enjoy the farm-fresh, scratch that, all the backyard-fresh eggs.

P.S. The coop is located in a distant side-yard so you won't even know they are there when you come to visit.