Yesterday I picked up three day-old poults. I'd ordered them with the intention of raising my own Thanksgiving turkey this year. I had originally wanted two, but the man who sold them to me had one extra, and he told me over the phone that he thought that once I got there and saw them, I'd want to take them all home.
He knew my weakness but not to its fullest extent - I wanted them all before I even hung up the phone.
So now I have three more downy babies, and one little problem. Because no one warned me that baby turkeys would be this cute - so wobbly on their long legs and hopelessly clueless, with large eyes and sweet triangular beaks.
If I have a hen or two in here, then goodness. I had dreamed of home-grown roast turkey, but come Thanksgiving I might be grateful instead for the makings of a little breeding flock out in the barn.