Fuzz and feathers.

For most of this year, we've been talking about chickens. Whilst still in the grips of a long, hot summer, preparations were being made in the backyard. A fence was built and a chookhouse pilfered from friends who were getting rid of stuff. Thatching was made for the roof to create a shelter that would be protected from the harsh summer sun and provide some warmth in winter.

For months now, all we needed were the chickens.

Here in Alice Springs, there's a Facebook group that practically everyone in town is a member of, where you post things that you're selling or giving away. A while back, we saw a post advertising chickens and taking orders for Rhode Island Reds, Leghorns and other types of chooks. We put our order in, and then the wait was on.

Finally, in early July, we got the call. The chickens were here. Now, I'm not really sure what I was expecting, but the last time that we had chickens, we picked them up at around 16 weeks old, and they already looked chicken-ly. Not this time. These chickens were tiny little balls of downy yellow fuzz. Day olds, freshly hatched. Tiny, teeny little fluffy things.

All of a sudden, panic set in. What do you keep these little tiny things in? Do we need a heat lamp? What do they eat? It was 4:56pm on a Wednesday and we were just outside town in the rural area. As new chicken parents, were really weren't prepared.

Thankfully a local pet store stayed open until 5:30pm so we were able to pick up a heat lamp, a feeder and a water holder. We would have to wait until 8:30am the following day to pick up the chick feed, so we had to make do with crusty bread crumbs that they eagerly pecked at.

It was amazing to see them move around in their box, already starting to scratch around and peck at imaginary bugs in the shredded paper.

Five weeks later, and they have grown most of their feathers and no longer fit all three into one of my hands. And yesterday, our little chickens moved out of home. Well, they actually moved out of the plastic tub lined with sawdust that was residing on the floor of my study. (I no longer have to do my uni tutorial with little cheeps in the background!)

We placed them into their new home and they huddled together for a while, gingerly taking a few steps as a little posse. An hour later they were exploring the floor of their chookhouse, pecking at their food and scratching at the straw like proper hens.

Then we opened the door and they ventured out to explore their own little fenced off section of the veggie patch.

Now, we are eagerly awaiting the next part of the lifecycle - eggs.