Nancy and I will be spending our anniversay - our 30th - with my brother and sister-in-law Homer and Lorrie in beautiful Micanopy, Florida. (Nancy and I were married on the 4th of July.)
Homer has a flock of 16 barred roc hens of which I am openly jealous. I have a single barred roc hen, and she is only a bantam.
We spent a portion of the afternoon trying to corrale the birds into their fancy coop, but the chickens weren't having it. Chickens cannot be bullied. And if you've ever tried running down a chicken, you'll know how astonishingly fast they are. It is not only frustrating chasing chickens, but humiliating: being outrun by a bird that doesn't even trouble to flap its wings. I offered them cheese, which I told Lorrie my own chicken is crazy-mad for. Their chickens were similarly fond, but it offered insufficient inducement to lure them into the coop. Finally we just let them roost in the orange trees for the night, leaving the issue of the chicken coop for another day.
I will say this, my chicken is smaller in number and size, but she is better behaved. She is not happy about it when it's time to go to the coop, but she generally cooperates. When she senses me near me, she squats and spreads her wings, bracing for my touch. Nancy says Sorche likes being picked up, but this is an overstatement. She does not resist being picked up. And if she runs away, she gives up pretty quickly.
Anyway, I read tonight at Books, Inc. in Gainesville, and Lauren Groff has kindly - kindly! kindly! - consented to introduce me. Then Nancy and I will spend a lovely anniversary here. Sorche is at home. In her coop.