The girls were not happy with the leaf blowers the workers used to get all the pine and leaf debris off the roof and then there were especially not happy when they saw large, hulking shapes moving around on the roof above them for most of the day.
After all, a hawk by any other name is still a hawk (especially when you don’t have the best eyesight.)
I found our chickens hiding in the back:
Ahem, the girls are supposed to be on *this* side of that fence.
I found our chickens hiding in the front:
Poor little chickens, while I ran to find my pencil so that I could circle all I could find, the girls huddled in the woods, not daring to come back out until the big, bad, men had gone away. Better safe than sorry – a very rational philosophy if you’re a chicken who wants to live to see tomorrow’s morning.
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Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at [email protected]
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