I'm an office worker who sits in a gray cublicle with no sunshine from 9-5 M-F. I moved to Northern California from Southern California three years ago, and now share a home in Redwood City with my partner and Winston, our Scottish Terrier. My mother's father had a ranch, and I have cousins in Pennsylvania who own farms. I remember visiting the farms as a child. I stepped out the car, held my nose, and said "pwe yoo." I ran into the hen house every time I heard cackling to find the newly-laid egg until I was told not to do that because it made the hens nervous. Then I was told to direct the cows into the barn at night by standing in front of the cows with my arms outstretched as they ran towards me. Yeah, right. I think I inherited my green thumb from my grandfather, and have good luck with fruit trees, veggies, and just about any kind of plant. It is yet to be determined if I also have the rancher's gene. I have yet to decide if I really want chickens, but I hope my pestering questions to be asked in this forum will help me decide. If I DO get chickens, they will be happily pampered and afforded more space than I'm allowed in my cubicle.