Rubbery feet actually, not little pinkies – so no baby showers please. I have to thank Alison of Through Rose Tinted Glasses for this post. We were commenting back and forth about my long cathartic post about changes in my life and she mentioned chickens. I read her post, link above, and given she is a city dweller and not country as I am, it seemed mad for me not to have feathered friends laying fresh eggs every day. My neighbour has chickens and their rumbustious, slightly selfish banter with each other and balancing acts on their perches are a joy to watch.
We have a composter building in the corner of our garden which will make the perfect chicken house. Its large, draft-proof and in a secluded corner. With a couple of lengths of chicken wire and some cosy timber boxes made inside, it will be chicken heaven. Tony has already been outside and measured. He has plans for feeing and watering systems too, in case we are away for a day or two. And we should have a couple of geese too. They can honk at our visitors and keep my grass trimmed.
Next year we would like a dog. It completes our family.
The picture was for my neighbour. He bought this handsome couple last Autumn and with I must say not my best Photoshop attempt, nevertheless I wanted to present him with a welcome gift. They are separate from the other chickens. They do not scratch up the garden so much and need no fencing. I need to go talk chicken.