All was going to plan (even though I got up at midnight to babysit the smoker fire and never got back to sleep). The phone at the house rang at 6:30 a.m. We had been expecting an early morning call; I had ordered 50 day-old baby chicks through the mail from Murray McMurray Hatchery. The plan was for Dan to hop in the car and go 5 minutes up the road to the post office and get them home after morning chores. BUT the call came from the Wolcott post office, the birds had been sent there by mistake, and would have to travel back to the Essex hub and be delivered to Highgate on Saturday – “maybe…” the post mistress said, “…there’s no guarantee they will arrive tomorrow.”
So Friday morning became “Operation Chick Rescue” because without food, water, or warmth they weren’t going to make it to Monday. I pulled the shoulders off the smoker, put them in the oven, and Dan and I drove 1½ hours to the Wolcott post office, located across from Buck’s Furniture store.
