Let the chicken games begin!

Me: walking with some tools in a bucket.  I happen to be passing near the greenhouse.

Rooster: tall neck, warning clucks.

Hens: freeze mid-step like it’s Simon Says.  Outliers start to creep back towards the rooster and the group.

Me:  nonchalantly stroll past the hens, feeling examined.

Hens and rooster:  excited murmurs-  Was that a bucket? Psst, bucket!  She was definitely carrying a bucket!  Bucket!  Whisk, whisk, whisk (the sound of chicken thighs rubbing together)- pursuit of the bucket ensues.

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Me: sharp turn to see if I’m being followed.

Hens:  Freeze!  What?  We were just, uh, hanging out.  Right.

Me:  Wave clipboard at them in lieu of hat.  Hens pretend to retreat, none of us are fooled.

Repeat from whisk, whisk, whisk…

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