Pride Going Before the Fall

Apr
13


A number of the free-ranging hens love to get up on top of the stacks of hay under the porch to lay. This works great when the hay is stacked high–for them. They’re so proud of their high abodes. It doesn’t work so well for me because I can’t reach the eggs. Then it doesn’t work so well for them as the stacks start to come down and sometimes the eggs come tumbling down with the hay. And then Casper is so, so happy to clean up all the broken eggs for me while the hens squawk around as if they’ve had their homes destroyed. Which, sort of, they have, but that’s what happens when you build straw houses! Haven’t they ever read The Three Little Pigs?


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Posted by Suzanne McMinn on April 13, 2011  

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Comments

10 Responses | RSS feed for comments on this post

  1. 4-13
    3:34
    am

    Good one about the three pigs! Silly chickens!

  2. 4-13
    8:00
    am

    Oh the chickens! Mine drive me crazy in my garden but so love them.
    Granny Trace
    http://www.grannytracescrapsandsquares.com

  3. 4-13
    8:52
    am

    Maybe you need to start reading that as a bedtime story for them.

  4. 4-13
    9:16
    am

    Your chickens may do what mine do. Last year the guys who stacked my hay left holes between the bales and I found hen nests in the holes.

  5. 4-13
    10:10
    am

    Straw houses don’t last very long.

  6. 4-13
    10:49
    am

    Well then, at least the free rangers are laying close to the house!
    Anchor you a few nesting boxes about door frame high and within step stool reach for you….Those smart hens know where to keep their eggs from snakes, rodents and raccoons! Smart gals!

  7. 4-13
    2:24
    pm

    Silly chickens. Maybe they need a talking to.
    Suzanne :chicken:

  8. 4-13
    3:54
    pm

    I let my hens run and they they started to go into my horse barn. They got up in the hay mound and what a mess they made.

  9. 4-13
    4:16
    pm

    Straw houses! LOL

  10. 4-14
    6:42
    am

    After hearing about the hen making the bread story (who will help me grind the grain to make the flour?) I would have thought that chickens were better at learning literature lessons. But I guess that’s all a bunch of cluck.

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The Slanted Little House

"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....






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