You had to see it to believe it
In case you haven’t been following the weather lately, it’s been getting pretty cold down here in the deep south. Really, REALLY cold. They’re even expecting snow in the next day or so. SNOW!! It’s weird…
Anyway, my family and I—mostly me— have been getting ready for the big chill. I’ve wrapped my pipes and stocked up on the firewood. I’ve also gotten my outside animals ready. And that’s where this little blog note/story comes in.
You see, we have chickens: Three roosters and four hens. We even have a cozy little hen house set up for these chickens stuffed with lots of warm hay and a warming light. But I have one stupid rooster who refuses to go in. I don’t know what his problem is.
Well, the other morning I got up and went out to feed them breakfast and guess what I found. A frozen chicken on the roof of the hen house. Yep folks, that stupid rooster had been perched up there all night in the below freezing weather . You’d think he had better sense, but apparently not.
I could have plucked him, thrown him into the stew pot, and had him for dinner (‘Fresh Frozen’).
Okay; so I may have exaggerated a tiny bit, but he did have ice all over his feathers. Lots and lots of ice. So much so that he couldn’t open his wings and was madly trying to defrost himself in the sun so he could fly down to the ground. Come to think of it he was kinda pretty, glistening there in the early morning sunlight.
I picked him up and massage his wings to get the ice off of them. As I rubbed, the feathers made a crunching sound kindly like when you step on frozen grass with your boots. I laughed. He didn’t find anything funny, though, as he was finally able to fly down to the ground. He landed and then strutted off with his head high in the air.
Seems he was fine and no worse for the wear.
Last night, because he still refused to go into the hen house, I placed a cardboard box filled with hay on the roof for him. It worked. He nested inside of it and popped out this morning crowing as usual but without the ice hanging off his body.
Stupid bird.
About the crazy lady…
—I’m a middle aged Southern woman… deep south ‘Southern’. If I say or use the word ‘honey’ in a sentence (or in this case a review/comment ), It doesn’t mean I’m hitting on you. I’ve had many a person take this the wrong way. This word is simply just embedded in my vocabulary. Maybe hypnosis would help…
—I’m married…..happily married. I’ve been with my first and only husband now for almost 19years. Yes, I’m one of those people. And If one of us should ever become single, it’s because one of us took a shotgun to the other.
— We have five wonderful kids ( between the ages of 13 & 4) that I absolutely love and adore. Okay; so I may have mentioned once, maybe twice, that I wanted to auction them off on EBay. But they were driving me crazy those few days. You try living in a house with that many kids…
—I love photography. Who knows, one day I might make the move up to amateur photographer. It’s such a big step….
— I absolutely love to cook. What Southerner doesn’t? ‘Course if you were to ask my family, they would say that not everything I cook is fit for human consumption. It might give you consumption though….
— Lastly, I’m a stay at home mom…who the neighbors think is nutty as a fruit cake. So I might carry on converstations with my chickens…and yell at the birds stealing my pecans while dressed in my PJ’s. But I’ll have you know, I’ve only had the fire department over once since we’ve been in our new home. I was just tired of doing the laundry and thought it would be easier to just set fire to it all in the front yard and start over. I mean come on, who hasn’t done that?
What’s cooking this week: (just click it)
Scottie’s World
A Southern Fried Mess 