No, the husband is NOT a chicken but we’re spending a lot of time these days discussing my chickens, a chicken tractor and chicken coup.
No, silly! Not that kind of chicken . . this kind of chicken:
And, for the record, because I know there are some out there just waiting to peck my eyeballs out . . I’m not going to eat my chickens. Not ever! My chickens will be happy chickens and they can live with me as long as they wish and if ever I can’t keep them any longer, I’ll find a good home for them. OK . . got that out of the way!
Last night Vince was sitting in his chair looking at a chicken magazine. I’m sitting across the room doing work .. yes, real work on the computer. His laptop is sitting right next to him, turned on, warmed up and ready to go.
Vince: Go to this website. (Me going to the website to look at something he wants me to look at is kinda like me calling the car mechanic with Vince standing behind me telling me what to say and then the car mechanic telling me something and I have to relay it back to Vince and then he tells me what to say to the mechanic and I’m thinking why don’t YOU talk to the mechanic?)
Me: YOU go to the website. I don’t know what you want me to look up.
Vince: What kind of chickens they recommend.
I do as I’m told. Good Judy!
Me: (now on website) Do you want “standard breed baby chicks” or “Bantam baby chicks”? (Knowing that whatever he says first, then he’ll send me back to the other one and still wondering why he isn’t looking them up himself and knowing he eventually will.)
Me: OK . . they have Heavy Breeds, White Egg Layers, Meat Breads, Crested Breads, Cochins . . (and I’m talking very fast) What kind would you like for me to look at?
Vince: THE KIND THAT DOESN’T TALK!
Mission Accomplished . . he then goes to the website himself.
About the chicken coop. I want something I can paint . . lime green and purple and happy. There are several really neat coops here:
Not exactly what Vince was thinking. I believe he’s wanting to have something a little more basic . . like ugly. Oh well . . at least he’s looking at it with me. We’ll find common ground and soon we’ll order our chickens and soon we’ll be out visiting with the chickens for our evening entertainment. How many years have I wanted chickens? At least 20 . . probably more. I can’t believe it’s about to happen. Guess I’d better not count my chickens before they hatch though! We don’t have them yet!