chicken o'cluck

Monday through Thursday, I get home at 6:30.  It's my absolute favorite time of day: chicken o'cluck.  Abe is off by then, so we sit outside with cocktails and chickens.

We can usually scrounge up some vegetable scraps or stale crackers to treat the hens.  It's not that we have anything against roosters... we just ate them all. If you're concerned there's something cruel or animal-hating about that, consider that I collage chicken pictures.  No need to dwell on it, though - my credibility is dubious already, what with the holiday outfits for the cat.

Pictured here: mostly Buff Orpingtons (portrait right) and Rhode Island Reds (portrait left). These are the hens who come running first when we're outside, since we've had them longest. In the bottom photo you can also see a Golden Comet (closest to camera and closest to Abe's feet) and a Plymouth Barred Rock (black and white, toward the back left of the flock).