I was just chatting with the friends upstairs about some woman who takes her cat for walks. It made me think it's high time to start walking the chickens. They usually follow me around when I'm holding bread crusts, so it would just be a matter of extending their attention span. At the moment, they have an attention span of 17 seconds. Between them.
The cat lady, according to eyewitnesses, takes her cat on these walks in a stroller-type device. This got me thinking (as many things do): If I make a plywood frame with a wheel on each of the corners, and then put chicken wire around it, I could make a rolling playpen. Not only would they get to see the neighborhood, they'd get some exercise. And I'd make a name for myself as the crazy chicken lady down the street. I think I have secretly always wanted a name for myself.
The chickens probably wouldn't be up for it. They're not so happy with me right now. I needed an egg this evening for some gingerbread and when I saw we had none, I figured there was one in the coop. They were not amused when I woke them up. The gingerbread was delicious, though. Sorry, chickens.
And in other recipe news, I just posted the directions for one of the strangest concoctions you'd ever dream of serving for dinner. It's on vigilantehousewife.blogspot.com.
And in other housewife news, I think the dining room is just about ready for painting. I'm hoping we can take a break before we refinish the floors because it would be quite refreshing to get the extra furniture off the couch for a change. Just a thought.
My life. It is so glamorous, no?