Sunday, May 22, 2011

My chicken loving men.

We let the "teenagers" out into the yard with the "grown-ups" this past week. The boys jumped right in to help.

 Look at those FFA's in training.....

Mom, hurry up! We've got to move the new ones to the back 40 before cheese sticks and juice.

A boy and his chicken....

 Andy and Cole with a naked neck. I'm sure Farmer Andy has it named and knows which way she like her pellets. To me, she's....a chicken.Look at you, Logan. You're a natural.

Dear Chickens,
    You won't remember this traumatic day. It's like when you drop your kid on its head reaching for a doughnut. It doesn't remember. You can laugh about it for years down the road. Just make it through today and the next time they reach for you with that "helpful" gleam in their eye, you'll run faster, huh?
                                           Sincerely, THE mother hen
Look at my men. So handsome. So chickeny.

"Ughhh,! Hurry up and take your pictures. I'm a chicken farmer
I have to get back to work. The chickens aren't going to walk around
all by themselves. We need to do the serious work of moving the
chickens around the yard.

Lest you worry about where Reese was during this epic event.....worry no more. Sweet dreams, angel. Sweet sawdust dreams.

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