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They worked, they studied, then they partied at prom. They signed each other’s yearbooks. They traded cell phone numbers and email addresses. They hugged and promised to stay in touch, and they pressed their eager beaks against the fencing wire of their chickhoods, and then–then!–they took their first steps into their unfettered futures.

Their coming of age.

Their freedom.

They can drive, vote, fight wars, and sign contracts.

They can marry, divorce, have babies of their own.

They can love, laugh, fly, dream.

Mostly, I hope they dance.

She was voted Most Likely to Succeed.

Prom King.

Prom Queen.

Most Likely to Need Psychological Counseling.

Good luck, Class of August 2009! May the egg be with you!
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
Make friends, ask questions, have fun!
Be a part of something big.
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"Cookies are good." Read my barnyard stories....
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Thanks and love your blog-
M
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he has 4 chicken entered at the county fair. They look pretty spiffy compared to some of the other entries–keep your fingers crossed! Nice glossy feathers and FAT! All three hens laid eggs already today and the rooster. . .just as happy could be!
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