Generally speaking, I don’t wear skirts. In the summer, I am most often in shorts. Last night however, I just wanted to be comfortable as I went about the yard watering my garden and my flowers so I slipped into an easy pull on knit skirt.
Around 9:00PM, Erik and I decided we had better get the girls in before it got any darker and before they all headed under the coop to get cozy. Armed with the plastic rake to flush them out and a butterfly net, the chicken round-up commenced. We had captured two or three when Daisy, our Boston Terrier and Bronte, our Corgi got into a battle just outside the fence. All of a sudden it was pandemonium and chickens were flapping and scattering everywhere. Erik caught Cricket, who screamed like she was getting her neck wrung and I nabbed Mirabelle. The last chick to get in was Hazel, Erik headed her off and I was on my knees trying to scoop her up, suddenly she turned and did a quick circle behind me and then dove under my skirt and stayed there.
It is an absurd moment when you realize that you have a chicken under your skirt. I am not sure if everyone experiences such hilarious moments raising chickens. They have made me laugh so much since they arrived just a few weeks ago that I do believe they truly are “chicken soup for the soul.”
The Upstart Garden 