Thursday, September 18, 2008

¿Qué Hay De Nuevo Huevo?

What's new? Not eggs. Not here. At least there's been no more crowing, so we are going on the assumption that the 3 chicas we have left are in fact girls and not chicos. But other than them being chicas, we are finding very little to credit them with.

They do not lay. They do not come when we call them. Sometimes they can't even figure the way out of their coop. They squabble. They poop. They cackle. They dirty their water and tear up the lawn. They ate the violas.

Fantam the Dark Bantam is in the foreground, and Buttercup, the Golden Wyandotte, well, I call her Frida. Nothing about her suggests "butter," so it seemed fitting to give her a new name.

Alex put it best when he said, "It's a good thing they are so funny."
It is 'a good thing they are so funny,' because these goofy, cute, fluffy, awkward, flighty birds are otherwise utterly nonsensical.

Lady Betty Orpington, Cotton-Headed Ninny-Muggins.
Why do I love them so?


nikkipolani said...

Great shots of these ever-on-the-move chicas :-) And thanks for keeping it real about living with chickens. I was beginning to think it was all cute fluff and eggs.

Chris said...

Of course you love them! It isn't about their habits, it's about their souls, and what they do for yours. Does that sound like I am completely whacked? I hope not...cluck!

amy smith said...

and that is the longest neck on a chicken that i have ever seen!

Em said...

I have to second what Amy said - whoa, that's a long neck!!! Great shots of your chicas! Maybe I'll have some to share soon too!

campbellgirl said...

Because they are beautiful - the feathers on the two dark ones, oh my! - and funny and they feed your soul (and ours). I was wondering yesterday if there had been any eggs yet, butI think I would have heard the almighty WHOOP! if that had happened. I still look forward to hearing it! That Alex boy has a lovely turn of phrase, LOL.

Tiglizzyclone said...

I used to live on the same property as my landlord. They had chickens. When the landlords went out of town they asked me to take care of the chickens for them, feed them, give them water, and get the eggs. That's when I learned how messy chickens were.

Bob Stein said...

Seconding Chris and Campbellgirl — half my dearest protein must once have been a chicken's. Moment of silence for the fallen. Ok, but I have a hunch if it weren't for the feathers no one ever would have tried eating these things. They are hideous in every sense but two.

d.a. said...

There's so much to love about chickens: the way their feathers smell and feel when you hold them next your face, the way they pursue bugs, the way they hold their heads and look at you when you talk to them.

Oh, and their fuzzy butts!