I have six new chickens. Five of these young ladies are barred rock and the other is a game lady. Very curious and easy going, these ladies follow me around the pen checking out my every move. Today was cleaning day for the outside pen. Raking the old straw and feathers, hauling them to the garden plot and checking the wire on the pen is a half day job. Of course, I spend a good bit of that time visiting with the ladies and listening to their complaints most of which relate to the demanding Roscoe (my number one rooster) and his two side kicks which I haven't named. They are true ladies as their complaints do not vary too far afield from the complaints I hear from friends about their significant others.
I am learning these new ladies personalities so I may name them appropriately. Each one is unique. Today my favorite earned the name of Jasmine - the wandering vine. As I was exiting the barn, Miss Jasmine slipped right between my legs. Frustrated at having to stop my project I chased her around the corner of the pen where low and behold she ran right into the coyote trap. She is pacing and fuming as she is now contained without food and water while her compatriots are happily playing and eating bread crumbs and seeds. Perfectly safe, she can wait for hubby to come in and relieve her of the stress of being confined in an even smaller environment.
So it is with us humans. We long to be free to roam uninhibited, yet most of the time we jump from the pot into the fire. Never content with our lot in life, we struggle to find something more. Most of the time we don't realize that even though the grass looks greener in the next pasture, it got that way because of all the fertilizer.
Until next time . . .
Happy reading!
Belle
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