deputychairman replied to your post
Mar. 27th, 2018 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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deputychairman replied to your post “Today’s excitement is that in the pig pasture the deep mud sucked my…”
I’ve always been bit afraid of the countryside and now I have reasons to back up my irrational feelings!
You are absolutely right. Though to be fair this is hardly really the countryside. When I was a little kid I was constantly losing boots in the horse pasture muck, or playing in the creek behind the house, but it hasn’t happened to me as an adult.
Maybe the best part about all the chicken shenanigans today is that the new flock is currently in winter quarters right next to the highway. (Hence my insistence that this is not really the countryside, per se.) This morning, a bucket truck was working on attaching cables to the telephone poles, so they had to have a man in the bucket, a man holding a stop sign to slow traffic, and a man to operate the bucket. During morning chores, they happened to be right at the overpass next to the coops, so the man with the stop sign was standing perhaps twenty feet from us, on the other side of the road. And later in the morning, when my sister was mucking out the coop and called me to come help her after the chickens escaped, the crew was on their return trip, so he was standing even closer, on the same side of the road as us.
“They must think these are like, Kobe chickens,” my sister said, glancing over her shoulder. “Every time they’ve been near us we’ve been working in here.” Something alarmed one of the roosters and he started cackling, so I cackled back. Sister hissed at me. “Don’t speak chicken when the work guy can hear, he’ll think we’re crazy!”
“Sorry, chickens,” I said, picking one up in my arms and petting it sadly, knowing the stop sign guy was watching me. My sister rolled her eyes at me and went back to slinging chicken shit out the coop door.
archifist reblogged your post and added:
Okay but put your foot back on please
I fixed it right away!
(Your picture was not posted)
deputychairman replied to your post “Today’s excitement is that in the pig pasture the deep mud sucked my…”
I’ve always been bit afraid of the countryside and now I have reasons to back up my irrational feelings!
You are absolutely right. Though to be fair this is hardly really the countryside. When I was a little kid I was constantly losing boots in the horse pasture muck, or playing in the creek behind the house, but it hasn’t happened to me as an adult.
Maybe the best part about all the chicken shenanigans today is that the new flock is currently in winter quarters right next to the highway. (Hence my insistence that this is not really the countryside, per se.) This morning, a bucket truck was working on attaching cables to the telephone poles, so they had to have a man in the bucket, a man holding a stop sign to slow traffic, and a man to operate the bucket. During morning chores, they happened to be right at the overpass next to the coops, so the man with the stop sign was standing perhaps twenty feet from us, on the other side of the road. And later in the morning, when my sister was mucking out the coop and called me to come help her after the chickens escaped, the crew was on their return trip, so he was standing even closer, on the same side of the road as us.
“They must think these are like, Kobe chickens,” my sister said, glancing over her shoulder. “Every time they’ve been near us we’ve been working in here.” Something alarmed one of the roosters and he started cackling, so I cackled back. Sister hissed at me. “Don’t speak chicken when the work guy can hear, he’ll think we’re crazy!”
“Sorry, chickens,” I said, picking one up in my arms and petting it sadly, knowing the stop sign guy was watching me. My sister rolled her eyes at me and went back to slinging chicken shit out the coop door.
archifist reblogged your post and added:
Okay but put your foot back on please
I fixed it right away!
(Your picture was not posted)
