Have a dressed up day!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Chicken Dances - in more than one way

Before you read any further I must warn you.  If you are the type of person not interested in where your food comes from because it "grosses you out" you might want to stop right here.

To get the full effect of this post you must listen to music.  Go to my playlist (sing-a-longs) on the right and click onto the Chicken Dance. Trust me, it will be a whole lot more fun this way.

We have chickens.
















I love my ladies.  We're good to them.  We feed and water them regularly, give them treats (fruits and tomatoes are their favorites because of the water in them), and He's Too Good To Me has built them a nice coop - no running water or air conditioning - but leaky free with nice big roosts.  Ever so often they are let out to roam free for their favorite snacks, bugs. My chickens give me delicious, fresh eggs.

But . . .























No more eggs, no more chickens (live, that is).


Slaughter time at the 'ole homestead is fast approaching.  This was last years.  Not long after this photo was taken my freezer was full.  No, Max had no nightmares.


That's a bad word - slaughter - sounds like Freddie or Jason or Michael might be coming to visit.  I prefer "taking their last voyage," "a leap into the unknown," or maybe "going on a holiday!"


This is a photo of some of our newest ladies. After fall we will be down to just them and it will be several years before another slaughter. They should be giving me beautiful little oval gifts in a couple of weeks.




This next photo is the best one of all.  Last year they lined up for their doom - really, seriously, I kid you not.



I know how much you are enjoying this, but please, no gifts.  Especially t-shirts, like this one.


CHICKENS FOR PEACE

Chickens for peace!
We’re chickens for peace!
And we don’t want to fry!
Chickens for peace!
We’re chickens for peace!
One little war, and we’re chicken-pot-pie!

Chickens for peace!
We’re chickens for peace!
And no one respects, a chicken who begs!
Chickens for peace!
We’re chickens for peace!
One little slip, and we’re hard boiled eggs!
Written by Peter Alsop, ©1985 Moose School Music (BMI)


Why did the chicken cross the road?  To get away from Here!





1 comment:

Donna and Greg said...

I know where you can dispose of extra eggs....if you have any! I love the picture of Max standing there watching Dad with his hands tucked behind his back. It looks like "I'll watch but don't expect me to help". Now he could cross his arms!

Drawing of me losing my cool courtesy of budding artist, Izzy.


Have a dressed up day!


. . . put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12