Greeeen Acres is the place to be...

Green acres is the place to be... Farm livin' is the life for me... Well, then again, maybe not. Wednesday night, Danny went to the Thunder game in Oklahoma City. He was going to feed the chickens before he left, but I, being the awesome wife that I am (lol)told him not to worry. I could handle it. Some one please slap me if I let those words roll off my tongue again. I put my oh so sexy chicken feeding attire on (t-shirt, shorts, ponytail and duck shoes), grabbed my egg collecting basket, chicken feed and headed to the coop. First rattle out of the box,I let one of his prized (favorite) ameraucana chickens out of the pen. Every step I took closer to her she took three away from me. I tried luring her with the dried meal worms but she is not as big a fan of them as some of the other chickens. Finally, Danny's Poppa helped me herd her back into the coop. Mission accomplished - catastophe avoided... for the moment. Some of our chickens are sick - one particularly sick. I leaned down to look at her and decided to pick her up to investigate a little closer - bad move. She let out a loud squawk and here came Robert the Rooster to her rescue. She ran off and Robert bowed up. Just as he jumped to flog me, I planted my duck shoe in his chest. He scrambled backwards, recovered and came at me again. Ding! Round two. This time he was met with a galvenized bucket I had in my hand (thank heavens). He ran one way and I ran the other - right out the coop door. I waited for him to go outside in his little chicken yard, then I ran back into the coop to block him out there while I finished feeding and gathering. Robert has no idea how close he came to being battered and fried. Maybe I should follow Mickie's lead and get ducks...