Another scintillating post about chickens

Sunday night, completely whupped from a long week and a busy and surprisingly fine weekend. Not much in the tank right now, but I can at least catch you up a little on my wee flock of chickens before collapsing with the escapist Robert Jordan book with the silly cover. Haven't you all been wondering what's going on in the coop these days?

Here's Harold. He's a living example of the word "cocky." He's also a living example of how people will overlook your bad character traits if you're beautiful...I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that I'm basically too soft-hearted to eat him. He watches out for his hens, defends the coop against scary things (like me putting food in their trough for example), crows at all hours, and looks absolutely resplendent in the sunlight. The hens still number five: friendly Clara the matriarch, Ida Mae and Pauline the shiny Australorpes, a sleek Rhode Island Red named Florence, and an adorable Barred Rock named Edna whose small size belies her large voice. Since the days are longer and brighter, egg production is ramping up and I usually get four eggs per day. They're still more fun than TV.

Tomorrow, yes tomorrow I will get up early (dare I say when the rooster crows?) and work hard because I have sketches due for a client and about a million other things that need some attention...