to feed the chickens

One of my jobs here will be to feed the chickens, let them out, bring them in, and gather their eggs for our use. In my first attempt, under Ilari’s bored teen supervision, I dropped and broke one. Immediately the chickens crowded around to eat its oozing contents from the cracked shell and packed mud. Nice, Guys.

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I forgot to shut in the chickens

I forgot to shut in the chickens last night, and this morning I woke up to the crowing of cock. Are the two related? I can’t remember whether yesterday, cooped up, he did. I jumped up and went out, all worried about being caught in negligence so early in this exchange of work for keep — whoops — and cajoled them, all enthusiasm and wet feathers about being out all night in the rain, back into their enclosure using unscheduled bonanza feed. Then I chopsticked egregious chicken shit from the patio stones, thinking about any other tells I could try to erase and get away with it, just this once, I promise. I hope it’s okay, that no chickens are found lost today to coyotes or whatever apex fowl predator prowls these chilly Spanish hills. 

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