The chickens moved outside this weekend. Although I was excited to reclaim our kitchen, I was a little sad to not hear their peeps as the evening wound down. And despite my assurances to Neko that they’d be okay, I was a little nervous myself.
So I started going outside in the evening to check on them. I’d sit down, and Fluffy would climb into my lap and snooze. The others would wander around my toes. I’d sip a glass of wine, and feel my whole body relax, muscle by muscle.
I can’t say enough good things about this whole chicken business. And neither can my blood pressure.