Wednesday morning I stood at the kitchen sink, looking out the window into the backyard while I washed my dishes from breakfast. I could see Josephine running around, chasing the birds who had made the mistake of landing in our yard. Then I looked over at the chicken coop just in time to see the chickens walk down the ramp one at a time and into their run to peck around the grass in the morning sun. And I sighed with contentment. Now I realize that the topic of the chickens and all things chickens is going to grow old fairly quickly. Just stay with me for now. The chickens are like a shiny new penny and right now in this moment I am transfixed with that shiny shiny penny.  I promise that, in time, my entries will return to non-chicken entries all the dang time. This is a Love Thursday entry though, so today I'm gushing about the chickens. 

Many years ago I decided that I wanted chickens. I don't even know how the idea got into my head. I wanted chickens in my backyard and I wanted to live in a city that was cool with all of that. It became something that I wanted so much, that I put it on my Life List. I knew nothing of chickens. We may have lived in rural Oklahoma, but we never raised any kind of farm animals. I just assumed that chickens would be the best ever animal to have in your backyard. It wasn't even about the eggs. Sure fresh eggs are great (or will be), but that was never the selling factor for getting chickens. I just thought chickens would be the most zen creature to have hanging around, which doesn't make sense because of all the chirp chirp chirp and cheep cheep cheep. Also, I have a vivid memory of being hustled into the home of one of the ladies mom would leave me with sometimes when I was little. I was bundled under Mom's coat, head and all, while she steered me to the door because these people had the most terrifying rooster. I am not even kidding. This rooster gave me nightmares. I loved that woman dearly. Patsy Stenson. She painted china, like old school painted china, and she was everything you would have thought Mrs Santa Clause was, but that rooster was the most awful. 

The chickens are the exact opposite of the most awful. In fact they are like having a community of Buddhist monks living in my backyard. I go out and meditate with the chickens on a daily basis. As soon as I start talking to our girls, Josephine steps up and places herself between me and the chicken coop and I have to scratch her back while I talk to our chickens. This is exactly what I was doing Tuesday evening when Michael came home. He walked out to the backyard without stopping to change out of his work clothes, to see me crouched down next to the coop cooing to the chickens and petting the dog. This weekend Michael is building a door to the run so I can actually crawl in there with them. He realized quickly that it wasn't enough to just be able to open the back of the roosting area and we need to be able to sit inside the run with them. The chickens bring a peace and calm to everything. They are more than I ever even expected. I am surprised by their different personalities. I am dazzled by their ever changing feathers. I am soothed by their constant chatter. 

I just love them, which makes them perfect for Love Thursday.