Yesterday while Todd went to play with his friend's band, I took the kids to Watkins Park to hang out with some friends. Watkins Park is really a great place to take the kids. They have an awesome playground on a bouncy rubber surface, a nature center, a carousel and train in the warmer months, and animals you can feed all year.
Liam loved feeding the chickens most, I think. I'm always wary of chickens, though, having been chased and pecked by a rooster when I was a kid. This is why, even though we limit our meat consumption, I never feel bad about eating chicken. Those creatures are foul. "Four legs good, two legs bad!"
The chickens really were the best ones to feed. They were interested in the corn, unlike the blasé peacocks, but not so hysterical as the geese. You would have thought the geese hadn't been fed in months by the way they squabbled over the feed. One of them pecked Thea's finger, which understandably surprised and horrified her. Filthy creatures.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Attack of the hungry geese
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
When the rooster attacked you, I was so incredibly angry I picked that sucker up by its feet and slammed it into the chickenwire of the pen. The end result was just about as violent as picking up a giggling two year old and dropping him/her on the bed. Did nothing to vent my mother's rage.
Then I tried flinging the rooster - forgetting chickens can fly. The blasted rooster floated down to the side of the pen where you were and tried to attack you again through the fence.
That rooster became "first harvest."
It was the first time I had ever eaten a chicken I had grown. Home grown chicken, just like the home grown eggs, have a totally different flavor and texture from storebought.
From the time you were 5 months old until the time you were five years old, most of the food you ate was "homegrown."
Four legs good, two legs bad! Hehe, that was my myspace quote.
I have to say that I love chickens. My entire motivation for moving out to the country is to have my very own flock of chickens.
Now you know why god wants us to eat fois gras.
Don't get me started on their poop.
Thank you for the Animal Farm reference. I'm such a dork I totally forgot it, so it was comforting to click and see what you were talking about. I could say "Yes, yes, quite right. Naturally I understood what was going on all along." (Note to self: Reading Animal Farm no longer counts if you can't remember a word of it. Time to raid son's book shelf.)
Dash's favorites were the chickens, too! But Rosie said that she loved the peacocks because they were such a beautiful blue.
So sorry that Thea got nipped. I'm sure that rude, noisy, greedy goose just thought that her little digit was just another corn kernel.
I loved that the "farm hand" agreed with you when you told Thea that the goose was going to be soup by tomorrow!
RM, I idly fantasize about having chickens and ready access to fresh eggs, but I'd still always keep a suspicious eye on them.
Poppet, it's been AGES since I read it, too. That line seems fresh in my head, though. Maybe it was on a kids' show recently?
Mmm, fois gras....
Post a Comment