$80 and a 6-pack of Beer

That's what it took for us to procure a chicken coop (delivered -- details to be discussed later), a bunch of accessories, feed, and, of course, two chickens.

Before I go further, let me back up for a minute. For quite some time, KLC has been semi-obsessively somewhat intensely talking about getting chickens for our yard. She went a took a class on a recent Saturday, has read books and blogs, stalked neighbors who have them (no, not really), and basically done as much research on the topic as one could reasonably do.

The general plan was to finish our yard this year and consider getting them next year. It's not exactly that I didn't share her unbridled enthusiasm for the chicken plan (ok, maybe not to the same exact level). It's just that I have the tendency to get overwhelmed when there is more than one thing to do around the house. Since we are still trying to finish up planting in the front and back yards, I was taking the wait-a-while approach.

All of that changed when we went for a walk in our neighborhood on Saturday evening sans children. We passed a yard sale less than two blocks from our house with lots of stuff for sale, including their chicken coop, etc for the above mentioned price. Now, I'm not sure if this is happening in other parts of the country, but having chickens in Seattle is a common occurrence if not a borderline epidemic. I'm not quite sure why this is, but the city recently passed an ordinance that allows up to 8 chickens on properties within the city.

Back to our story. The people selling the coop were a couple of hippie/hipster 20-somethings who were moving to Alaska in a week or so (you know, the type that can make you feel very old and boring for having a mortgage and a minivan.) Anyhow, they were very nice and offered to deliver the coop if we wanted it.

We went back and forth on this for a little while. Certainly, the price was right (it can cost many times more for a new coop, or even a used one on craigslist, not to mention the chickens and accessories.) The main problem was our new fence. The we-are-total-yuppies fence that we cringed at hurting because the coop would not fit in the gate. Yes, the coop had to go over the 6-foot fence.

Here's where the beer comes in. Never underestimate what friends of 20-something hippie/hipsters will do for a beer. That's right, this guy and his friends essentially hoisted this rather heavy small building over our fence, with a little help from us, and placed it into the backyard. And we did, after that, give them a beer.

So we are now the proud keepers of Buffy and E.B., two chickens that have each produced one egg every morning. This is exciting for many reasons, not the least of which is that we eat a lot of eggs. (KLC and I are both pseudo-vegetarians who eat fish and dairy and definitely eggs.)

The girls, as we call them, don't make too much noise (the city of Seattle was smart enough to ban roosters) and eat a lot of our food scraps. Not to mention that they are pretty cute and kind of funny. I'm sure my Nebraska ancestors who actually farmed for a living are somewhere laughing at the idea of my learning how to corner a chicken to get them back into the coop while living in the middle of a city, but that's where we are.

That's it on the animal additions. But maybe we shouldn't go for any more walks for a while, just to be sure.