Friday night improv at the farm

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We bought a batch of “barnyard mix” chickens earlier this year, meaning there were a few different breeds of roosters mixing with a few different breeds of hens, and you can probably guess the rest of the story.  We are processing the boys on Monday for the freezer, and the girls out of that group will round out our first eggmobile to 50 hens.

In the group, we have some pullets with coppery feathers on their heads that blend into a darker brown on their bodies, and black speckles thrown in for good looks.  Since they’re not “pure-bred,” they’re not a specific chicken breed, so we call them “Sunset Girls.”

It’s amazing how often farm animals make us want to burst into song, often making one up as we go.  Before chores last night, we went shopping, which means we may have heard Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl in the grocery store.

At any rate, when I saw these pretty little almost-hens, I started singing,

Sunset Girl. You’ve been living in a pasture world.

Lots of forage and some special treats,

(And Greer broke in with) And a baby mouse to eat.

Because the chickens have found several tiny mice in the pasture recently, which have caused lots of chasing and joy.  Apparently the mice are tasty. Ew. (But the practical side of me thinks “less feed to buy!”)

Next time you see us, ask us to sing the “gooser” songs!  (We have two.)

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