We bought baby chicks a few months ago. And now they are big chickens. And because Eric has not had time to fence off our property, he made a “temporary” chicken cage. But, we have 35 chickens. Eric had thought more would die as babies. But they all lived. They have surived the children holding them. Even Gabe. And then there’s Josh..
I was walking with him back to the chicken cage and he asked me if I had seen “Chicken Fly”. I asked him if he meant “Chicken Run”? “Nope,” he replied, I mean “Chicken Fly.” At about that time we were back by their cage. Josh hopped over the fence, grabbed a chicken and threw it up in the air, as high as he could, while screaming “CHICKEN FLY!!!”
At that point I screamed too. The poor chicken. Every chicken was balking and squawking as if to say, “Not Me!! Not Me!! Choose her!!” I explaing to Josh that this was a bad idea and that he could hurt the chickens when he threw them. No more Chicken Fly.
Back to today. I have been feeling awful that these chickens are all caged up. they have eaten every piece of grass, so they just have dirt to run around in. So in the morning, I asked Ben to go open the door to their cage and let them roam free for awhile. Then we can call them “free range chickens” Just kidding. Around 2:00pm, I realized that I need to make sure all the chickens were in their cage because it would be dark when we got home that evening.
One hour later, and with the help of the three boys, we had all the chickens in their cage. Oh, how I wished I had never let them out. I tried catching them, bribing them with grains, corralling them. I even let the dog try to chase them. It was awful. It has been raining alot here. So everything was mud. I slipped and fell more than once. I scratched my hands up with the blackberry bushes. I accidentally got into the poison oak. I was thinking really bad thoughts about those chickens. Like how I didn’t care anymore if they got gobbled up by some animal in the middle of the night. Or how maybe a shotgun would solve my problem. I even had mud caked under my fingernails. My pink and black rain boots were covered in chicken poop and mud.
And then finally, we had all 35 chickens accounted for. Locked up safe and sound in their chicken cage. I then raced back to the house in my rain boots, and told all the children to get in the car. We were already going to be late for practice. And all of a sudden, as Josh raced back into the house and past me for the third time, I realized that trying to get all seven of my children into the car took as much skill and determination as trying to catch all 35 of those chickens. Each child has to at least once run back in the house because they forgot something. Or need to go to the bathroom. Or they are thirsty. And I say “GO!! Get in the car now!! We are late!!” And then the next one comes running in and I say the very same thing again. Over and over, until every child is in the car with their seatbelt on. And we are driving.
Sometimes when I dump my pictures on my camera, there are pictures that show up that I did not take. I try to encourage the children to be creative with photography, so here are their pictures. Not sure who took what.