Chickens

Why do I have chickens anyway? For the last four months now I have allowed my chickens to "free range" around the farm, which translates into never being able to find the eggs (and when you do, the last thing you want to do is eat them), and watching them destroy any hope I once had of landscaping. This is a photo of my poor begonia (which was having a hard enough time in the first place) being up rooted for the sake of finding some tasty morsel in the soil. Did I mention that this was the only plant that I bought this year too. The whole baby thing threw my yard work out the window...

I would march right out there now and pen those hens up - if they did not scare the begeezes out of me to catch. You see, one is supposed to be able to scoop them up with this handy-dandy hook (which looks more like they are getting evicted from a stage show) and hang them upside down by their feet and carry them off peacefully. When I grab their legs they go into a flurry of feathers and wings causing me to usually drop them and run screaming. The Farmer finds this part particularly funny. And since these feathered demons were my idea, apparently I am responsible for getting them back in the pen. It probably does not help my cause that every time I have whined enough for him to do it, I have sneaked in the barn and released them within the week because they look too sad all "couped" up...