These are a friend's chickens but I wish they were ours. I'm pretty close to making chickens happen here; they are such funny birds. At the waldorf school where Cedar and I have a parent toddler class on mondays, I always bring some rice cakes to feed the free-ranging chickens. I generally manage to pick one up and love on it for a while. Calling them - cu-cu-cu-coo? - brings them on the run, looking as if they are holding up their skirts. Such earnestness. And then all week cu-cu-coo? peppers Cedar's monologues.