Green, Green Grass

Yeah, so I went out to feed our little dudes like I do every day, and when I opened the coop door, there was a long tuft of grass that stuck up and into the coop.  Oh, my gosh; you’d think they were thirsty football fans that had just sighted a cooler of Uncle Bud!  They practically DOVE at that grass; and I’m not talking about a little neck lunge or a general lean in the direction of the nacho tray.  I am saying it was like there was one LAST piece of fudge on the Christmas tray, you just saw it, and there were three portly people in your way who deserved the fudge less than YOU did.  They LUNGED.

Well, revelation set in.  I left the door half open and kept my body in the open part of the door (more so Kenzie couldn’t eat any chicken fricassee than I was scared they would get out into the yard)  You would think a toothless bird would have trouble tearing strips of grass out of the ground, much less swallowing it – some of the blades of grass (with apologies to Walt Whitman) were three inches long.  (I hadn’t mowed that part of the yard yet).

They are a genetically designed grass havoc machine.  I watched that stuff disappear down their gullets like the Lady and the Tramp demolished that spaghetti in that alley on the fruit box.  Seriously – I still think of those little dinosaurs that were chicken-size in Jurassic Park.  Our little chickens are truly a miracle of design; chicken feed doesn’t give them the challenge they deserve.  I haven’t let them out yet only because we want to record their first trip out so you all can see it.  We’ve figured out actual jpeg and mpeg transfer; yes, I know how to do that now.  All that remains is me, Ang, the camera, and a decent time to let them out to goof off.

Our little punkins are chicken-size now.  Their voices haven’t changed to a lower register – they still sound chick-y, but if you walked back there, you’d think “chickens”, not “chicks”.  No more fluff to be found.

Our garden is planted, and most of the plants appear to want to survive.  I’ve had several talks with the Jalapeno plant; I doubt his work ethic.  But we’ll see.  Jalapenos are a must and he’s gotta know he’s replaceable.  That matters to you because the chickens are gonna eat the bugs out of the garden.

If any dare show up.