Sunday, March 11, 2012
When we lived in North Pole we had several chickens, the white Cornish cross we would raise every year for eating. The year my ex and I split the second time I was left with about 30. They became my visitor greeters, surrounding any vehicle that came into our driveway, pecking at their tires and waiting for the "victim" to get out. I looked out my living room window one day to see a friend sitting on his bike with my little flock staring up at him. They even tried to go running with me and another friend one day. We took off down my drive and heard the skitter of tiny feet. As we looked back all my little hens were following us, trying to keep up.
We would like to raise laying hens some day, but for now, I will suffice with painting them. Here's a pastel I did yesterday. Do you have chickens?