Tuesday, November 22, 2011
I want my chickens. I despair at my lack of chickens, fresh eggs, and even the poop. yes, I despair the lack of chicken poop. I keep reading the chicken book Carra gave me,Chick Days Raising Chickens from Hatchlings to Laying Hens. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry, and it is the perfect 'go to' book when I'm too tired for retention but want to read a few pages before bed. Anyone who knows me well knows that I fell in love with a little Ancona hen this summer. I named her Florence, and held her in my arms. I made up songs about her new comb and wattle, her wee talons, her black and white speckly feathers. I sang them to her as I scratched her beak, and she would close her eyes and coo for me. When she was nervous, i would tuck her head under my arm and she would sleep there. We had a bond. Sadly, her independent little self wandered too far from the flock in late August and she became supper for a fox. Sadly, sadly. This week I will be making a little chicken canvas in honor of Florence. In the mean time, here is Florence.