Chicken Birthday Party!

Great fun was had by all at the chickens' birthday party on Easter Sunday. Neighborhood kids came by to pet the hens, and after the kids went home the grown-ups fired up the cotton candy machine and ate airy blobs of sugar until they were all quite sick. There was a chicken race up the driveway, and (not surprisingly) the Leghorn won. They're quick and wily. The Whig Party posed for this photo in her jaunty birthday hat, and said, "If Millard Fillmore could see me now!"

Painting the Roses Red

The chicken coop got a new coat of paint last weekend, and there has been plenty of squawking about it. The leghorns preferred the pure white base coat, and there were murmurs of favoritism from the Rhode Island Reds when the red paint was applied. The Rhode Islands were certainly pleased with the final result, with the exception of Old Paint who clucked that she preferred the previous finish. Only a few chickens were painted in the process.

The Blue Egg Project

Neil Young is proud to announce the arrival of her long awaited Blue Egg Project. Industry insiders predicted its release last October, but that release date was delayed time and time again while the hen went into seclusion. "I'm most creative when I have time to be alone and gather my thoughts. That's when my artistic genius flourishes." Sources say the delay wasn't entirely the artist's fault. They pointed to the production crew that surrounded the hen with their not-so-helpful advice on The Project.

Pre-production snafus dragged on through the snowy months, leading some insiders to declare the project would never see the light of day. Insider tidbits leaked out about the work in progress, including one rumor that The Project had been cursed by a bitter former employee of Young's, but that was denied by the hen's publicist.

After many tantrums, some strong-arming by industry executives, and lots of well wishing by fans, the Blue Egg Project finally hit the shelves in March. Come on down to the Masala co-op and get your copy today!

The New Chicken Steward

A new chicken steward was appointed this week, replacing that shifty Daji the Fox. The new steward promises that he will not leave his post, even for a moment, but will stay fixed in that same spot, scanning the horizon for predators, listening to the sweet sound of chicken clucks and thinking about the meaning of life. All he asks is that we periodically bring him gifts of quinoa and hippie slop stir-fry when he gets hungry. Maybe some popcorn with nutritional yeast on it for a special treat.

Caught Red Pawed

Daji the Fox was removed from her post as chicken steward when a hole was discovered on the far side of the run. It appeared as though a clever animal of some sort moved several of the large rocks that hold down the chicken wire that surrounds the coop before attempting to tunnel under it. When asked how such a breach of security could have happened on her watch, Daji appeared to be full of dismay.

"I'm not sure how this happened. I patrol the perimeter every day, looking for a way in. For a way in that someone else may have been trying to dig, that is, and then to stop them. I just can't believe you found this hole a mere day before it would have been complete... I mean, I can't believe I didn't find this hole and put a stop to this, as would have been required by my job description."

In these hard economic times it may be unlikely that Daji will be hired anywhere else in the near future, given her spotty work history.

"I may just volunteer my time here for a while, until I get my resume together. You know, just keep an eye on things to make up for what happened."

She licked her lips and looked really, really sad, so the co-opers said it would be ok for her to chill for a while in Kalalau until she got a job somewhere else.

"You gotta pay the $90, though," an officious looking co-oper said.

"No problem, but can I, uh, give you an IOU, for now? I'm a little behind on my bills this month."

"Ok, but expect a late charge. And do your own dishes. I don't care if you don't have opposable thumbs."

Bottom of the Brood

broody

adj broodier, broodiest

1. moody; meditative; introspective

2. wishing to sit on or hatch eggs (when hens "go broody" they will stop laying)

brood

v.intr.

1. To sit on or hatch eggs.

2. To hover envelopingly; loom.

3. a. To be deep in thought; meditate.

b. To focus the attention on a subject persistently and moodily; worry:

c. To be depressed.

Neil Young has been broody for quite some time. "Kids these days don't even know who I am," she frequently says to herself (as none of the other hens will talk to her or allow her to eat with them). "I made Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young what it was. Everybody knows that. Without me they would have been just a bunch of ordinary hens, a bunch of None Hit Wonders..."

A nearby hen let out a cluck of protest, but then quickly went back to ignoring the Ameraucana.

"Ok, ok," Neil Young continued, "CSN had two top 40 singles before I joined them and successful solo albums, but where are they now?" Neil looked glumly around the coop and decided not to continue with this train of thought.

She also refuses to lay eggs.

It happened to me, too!

Emboldened by Deirdre's abduction story, MechWarrior stepped forward today with a similar tale, lending credence to what most had dismissed as a wild fabrication.

"It happened a few weeks ago," Mech Warrior said. "This time, they came during the day instead of at night, and snatched me right out of the run. Either the other hens didn't notice, or the aliens had some of those Men In Black wands they waved around to make everyone forget what they'd seen... Come to think of it, both aliens were wearing black!" MechWarrior's agitation noticeably increased as she continued her tale. "They took me into their pod and put me on a cold white examining table, more like a bin actually, with a drain... I shudder to think what the drain was for..."

"Go on, go on!" Deirdre said.

"Then... one of the aliens held be down by the neck... and the other... did things to my... my..." here her voice dropped an octave... "my egghole!"

Deirdre and the others hens gasped.

"I don't know what they were doing back there, but it took them a long time. I tried to escape once, but they captured me again." MechWarrior fluffed up her feathers and stamped around a bit. "They're lucky I wasn't wearing my Power Armor with HarJel. I would've zapped them with my Jump Jets! They should know better than to mess with a MechWarrior from the House of Liao!"

"What happened next?" Deirdre said, egging her on.

"Well, then they took out this weird silver lazer thing, and blasted my rump with it! I was suddenly flushed with heat. And embarrassment. Luckily after that they let me go back home."

Mr. Pants happened to be scratching for worms nearby and looked up at MechWarrior. "Hey, what happened to your poop?"

"What poop?" MechWarrior said.

"That poop stuck to your butt feathers. You've been dragging it around all month."

"Oh, that poop... It's not there anymore? They've taken it! They've taken my poop! It's not just the neighbors wanting it for their compost, now the aliens are after it too." MechWarrior looked bewildered and proud at the same time. She muttered something about DNA samples and cloning, and then got distracted by a corn cob that was thrown into the run.

"Corn! Corn! Corn!" was her final statement on the matter.