At my school they think we were.
Like I told my Kid's when they got out of High school. You now have a choice " a BOOK or a SHOVEL" ...cva34
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At my school they think we were.
Years ago I wrote thread called "Broody Mom...I'm Calling Social Services!" It was about my broody hen raising her chicks in what I thought was an appalling manner. She got right up after the last chick was born and start fervently scratching and digging...the poor chicks were covered in bedding from head to toe. Not to mention she'd trip over them constantly.
She'd take them out when I thought too cool, give them bugs that I thought were too big, etc. She finally brought them back in the coop in the evening. Poor things were so tired and dirty. Oh the HORROR! Well, she would quietly settle in the corner coaxing them under her for the night and all you'd hear was the happiest, most content purring coming from those chicks. OK, she didn't do it my way but they grew up into the most healthy and happy chickens ever.![]()
Years ago I wrote thread called "Broody Mom...I'm Calling Social Services!" It was about my broody hen raising her chicks in what I thought was an appalling manner. She got right up after the last chick was born and start fervently scratching and digging...the poor chicks were covered in bedding from head to toe. Not to mention she'd trip over them constantly.
She'd take them out when I thought too cool, give them bugs that I thought were too big, etc. She finally brought them back in the coop in the evening. Poor things were so tired and dirty. Oh the HORROR! Well, she would quietly settle in the corner coaxing them under her for the night and all you'd hear was the happiest, most content purring coming from those chicks. OK, she didn't do it my way but they grew up into the most healthy and happy chickens ever.![]()
My mom used to sing this lullyby to me:
There's a queer little house
that stands in the sun
When the good mother calls them the children all run
Though the cold winds may blow
and bluster and storm
The children are happy and cozy and warm.
In the daytime this queer
little house moves away
And the children run after it happy and gay
At night it returns
and the children are fed
and tucked up to sleep in a warm feather bed.
Now this queer little house
has no windows or doors
The roof has no shingles and the rooms have no floors
no fire place or stove
or chimney you see
but the children a happy and warm as can be.
Now the story of this
little house is all true
I have seen it myself
and I know you have too
You can see it one day
when you watch an old hen
as her downy wings cover her chickens again.