Chicken Lady

While living on a farm I have had these moments, typically when I am standing knee deep in a manure pile in -20 weather with a weird wind sleet blowing in my face, that I yearn for a condominium.  I yearn for any place in which the business of the outdoors is handled by someone else.  I have even had thoughts of a retirement residence flit through my mind as I dash through a field with some young bovine hot on my heels and intent on putting both me and my heels over the fence.  A decision point of whether I cook supper that evening or I notify the dining hall that I will be eating there seems somehow so much more palatable then trying to decide whether to dodge right or left in order to miss the hook of the horns hot on my trail. And then there are moments like today that make it all seem worthwhile.  Earlier this week I had to take my resident teenager shopping for clothes.  It was enjoyable...bland but enjoyable.  Then a couple of days ago I announced to the same teenager that I had finally found chickens close by that would suit our coop.  There was a squeal of delight.  Perhaps even a clapping of hands.  Certainly there was more enthusiasm and expression than that pair of jeans garnered from her no matter how snazzy those jeans were.  Off we went today to pick up our new chickens with her and her enthusiasm bouncing along beside me...until we got lost of course and then the teenage angst and cussing reigned supreme.  But anyhow I digress...when we finally found our way to our elusively located hens the enthusiasm was back with no concern for any chicken 'muck' left on the fronts of our snazzy clothes from hens that were not so enthusiastic to be plucked from the only home they had known so far in their short lives.  Our chicken coop has been lovingly prepared by the same angst ridden teenager.  The lone remaining chicken Quasimodo has been fully briefed on the new occupants...yes they are twice your size Quasimodo and yes they are a heritage breed and may seem to be a station above a lowly leghorn.  But you Quasimodo own this coop and don't you forget it! And now they have been settled into their new home with pats and cuddles and some trial names by Miss Teenagedom.  It almost makes that weird wind sleet stuff worth it...almost I say... as the gales of November seem to have come early to our farm today and I have utterly no supper plans.