Chicken name, and other stuff I feel like saying

With over 90% of the votes, Henrietta won by a landslide. So, there we go. Chicken all named. And, if you can believe it, Blair wants even more chickens! Although, last night in the backyard, watching the feathered girls run about, we were discussing the idea of a more rural lifestyle. Not for ourselves, necessarily, but as I’ve looked into this whole chicken business, I’m seeing a lot of people choosing that life. The kind where you sell your townhouse/condo/apartment in the city and settle down in some rural mid-western community with homeschooling books in one hand and leading your goats with the other, strapped into overalls. Because hello, if you’re going to be a farmer, you have to dress like one. I’d read a blog (I don’t remember what it was or I’d give you the address) where the people gave up their city lifestyle, including but not limited to, cell phones, tv, public school, and many other conveniences I would have a hard time doing without. In return, they got homeschooling, a farm, a menagerie of various farm-y animals, and a freaking lot of work. Anyway, after a short discussion of the potential for inordinate amounts of work we both don’t love, including gardening, and dealing with animal poop, we felt sure that a few chickens, and a weedy garden are pretty much our farming limit. We feel pretty good about this.  My girls and husband are going on a ‘trek’ this summer for just a few days to get in touch with our  mormon pioneer roots.  The church sponsors this trek and I support it…as long as I’m not necessarily ON it. It’s one thing to remember the pioneers, and respect their honored memory. It’s a whole other thing to haul your fanny out into the woods in a dress and pretend to BE a pioneer. hmmm.  I bet they’ll have tons of fun and learn many valuble lessons. I bet I’ll be ok here, feeding the chickens and reading a nice book.