So it's a lazy Sunday.
The chickens are out for most of the day looking for bugs, fertilizing my perennials, and laying eggs under the outdoor fireplace.
Little P, the budding pyromaniac, is enjoying himself because I've taken advantage of his obsession with fire. He is spending the day putting dead leaves on the fire and loving every minute of it. I showed him, earlier in the day, how to build a proper fire so it will last a good long while.
Older P is skateboarding on the driveway, even though he sprained his ankle a few weeks ago and is banned from all sports for another few days.
I am getting some laundry done, all the while poking my head out of the door to make sure Little P hasn't set the house on fire. Then I remember I have work tomorrow and load my suitcase (the one that carries my cds and cd player) into the trunk of my car.
After a while, it gets dusky and I gather up the stale bread for the girls (8 hens; two Light Brown Leghorns and 6 Rhode Island Reds) and prepare to herd them into the coop.
The Rhodies are very compliant and friendly because I've handled them since they were only a few weeks old. They still hop up on the front porch and holler for me to come out and play, and often try to charm their way into the house.
The Leghorns, on the other hand, are sassy and sometimes they won't come in without a fuss.
Mr. P hasn't borne witness to their sassiness yet, because he's hip deep in election
season. After 45 minutes of trying to coax them to get in the damn coop, I silently curse him as they were his idea...............it's a loving curse.
Anyway, finally two Leggies and five Rhodies.......and uh oh, Clarabelle is missing.
Where is she?
The three of us search high (chickens like to roost in trees) and low.
No sign of Clarabelle...........
until............
Guess where I found her?
