Chickens are back at the accidental farm.

Friday I took a day off work and my daughter, a green-thumbed writer friend, and I went down to Mount Hope for their thrice-a-year swap meet. I got up early in the morning to put the finishing touches on the coop, and sprayed the place with bleach water just before we left. Getting out of town proved to be filled with tension and intrigue. For the second time in recent months, my father-in-law's pickup broke down - one block from where it broke down on me last time - and had to be towed. We ended up taking the writer's VW Golf down to the event.

I wasn't really sure what to expect when we arrived. There were puppies in abundance of all different breeds, including new "Designer Breeds" (that just a few years ago were called "mutts" or "mixes"). There were lots of rabbits and ducks, a few people selling firearms, and eventually, plenty chickens - but they were mostly banties.

In fact, I only found one person who was selling regular (or "large breed") chickens. My speculation is that there's a boom in banties because they're small, meaning lower maintenance and higher cuteness factor. And if you're into having chickens for the decor and ambiance, the tiny eggs aren't an issue.

So checking out the one large breed seller, I managed to find some chooks to restock with. I tried to pick out the best looking birds I could find, the younger the better. I ended up with three Golden Comets, one black Australorp, two Ameraucanas, and a Rhode Island Red rooster. Then I went and picked up a couple of Silkies from a couple of enterprising young men who also tried to sell us a beagle puppy. The Silkies are small recent hatches; the Ameraucanas are spring chickens; the others are about a year old, and should start laying once they get used to their new surroundings (this might take a month).

We got them all boxed up and crammed into the Golf and home in good order. Fresh straw was spread in the coop, fresh food and water given, and scratch thrown down. Then I locked them in for the rest of the day so they would know that this is where they were expected to roost. To my surprise (and some delight), the rooster started crowing right away. It wasn't a very pretty crow, but he's gotten better at it over the last few days. He just needed a place to call his own, I guess.

The goats didn't care much about the new additions - most of them have had chickens around. Ripley was fascinating to watch. Saturday when I went to let the chickens out for the first time, she made her way in and play bowed to them, then crouched down, waiting for them to come over and play. When they didn't she chased them - but not aggressively. My daughter said she herded them out of the coop. Then she tried chasing them around the barnyard, again, in a casual, playful lope. The thing is, chickens scatter when you try to herd them (in herding competitions, ducks are used because they tend to clump together). Now she had two groups of chickens and couldn't figure out what to do. I think she wanted them all back together.

So the future will hold watching Ripley to make sure her play or herding doesn't become too aggressive, while giving the chickens a chance to settle in and start doing that laying thing again. My writer friend took lots of pictures of the goings on, and is writing up her account of the expedition - I should have a link to both soon.

Meantime, it turned into a new chicken weekend. My wife, daughter and I took my mother to a house warming party on Sunday, and the hosts were given an unusual gift by family members - two hens and a rooster. Guess I'll have a new role as a chicken consultant coming up soon. I'll have to dig up some of my chicken books to loan out to help them through their crash course in bird keeping.