Cutest thing ever can be found HERE. This makes me laugh so hard. And I am actually very tempted to get one.

1. There would be a lot more family pets and a lot fewer strays
2. Chickens would be acceptable household pets
3. All pills would be available in chewable form
4. Pajamas would be acceptable for most any occasion
5. Life would revolve more around eating and less around consuming
6. There would be more lists
7. You could check things off those lists
8. (It would give you a sense of fulfillment)
9. There would be more time for blogging
10. Honey would not count for calories
11. Everyone would have space for a garden
12. There would be fewer people
13. Economics would be taught more thoroughly than literature
14. Literature would still be taught thoroughly though!
15. Every student would graduate knowing how to balance a checkbook, change a tire, and make bread

My parents have three cochins. If you have never seen cochins, you simply need to accept that with the exception of polish top hats, they are the most absurd chickens ever. And my parents have three. Two hens and a big poofy rooster. The cochins always remind me of cats, in that they are actually much smaller then they seem. They’re mainly feather and poof.

Anyway, back to heff. When the rooster first came to live with us, he was named lief erikson, a strong viking name. My parents, however, have taken to calling him Heff. Not because of the obvious “two hens” and “Hugh Hefner” connection, but rather, the “heffalump” connection.

Please tell me you know heffalumps. As in heffalumps and woozles? If you don’t, you need to go back and re-do childhood. Clearly something important was missed.

Below you’ll find a video of Heff strutting around and clucking. I love his voice. It so deep and dramatic. Such a contrast to a puffy, plodding chicken.

(Video is mine. Please don’t steal)

Sorry for the meager posting lately. As you’ll recall from past terms (if you’ve been reading that long) I tend not to post much toward the end of terms. To make up for it, here is my boyfriend looking ridiculous with an absurdly large chicken.

If you’ll recall, my heart has recently been stolen by a tiny chicken. I bring to you know video of little peep chasing my boyfriend’s hand. She thinks hands are her mama. And she’s been practicing flying. Video is best at high volume, so you can hear her peeps.

Video is mine, don’t steal, so on and so forth.

I just failed at my breakfast routine. This is by no means as bad as some OTHER mornings, but I felt it worth sharing. I had milk in a glass that I was drinking intermittently. In a mug beside it, I had a tea bad waiting. I stared outside and watched the chickens while I waited for my water to boil. Before I knew it, I had bubbles! (Which is excellent, since I usually peek under the lid about 4 times and it takes about 10 minutes to boil). So I poured my boiling water…. into my milk, not onto the tea bag.

Oh lordy. Brain? Hello? You there? (Uh oh, no answer).

I am at the beck and call of a chicken smaller than my thumb.

You may have noticed I have not posted in a couple days. This is because my life EXPLODED. Did you feel the ground shaking? That’s what that was. If I wasn’t so lazy I would post a picture of my apartment as evidence. It was hit by the main blast. (Although I did clean the kitchen last night. Woo go me).

Now, I know what you are all thinking. “What on earth happened to make you not blog for two days? After all, you’re the best part of my day!” (or something like that..) Well I will tell you what happened. Baking. Chickens. Illness. Homework.

Let’s start with the homework. I had a lot to do. I could not do it because of the aforementioned illness. I wasn’t sick. My dear boyfriend was. You know how some people are so sweet and cute when they’re sick? They cooperate with you, feel bad about the whole thing and willingly take their aspirin? Yeah, that wasn’t him. Even with a temperature of 101.7, he wouldn’t take any medicine. With a deep cough he refused cough drops. While sweating through my sheets and mattress cover, he was uncooperative and sullen when I tried to use a damp cloth to cool off his neck. It’s all, dude? I’m not kicking your hiney back to your apartment right now and I’m making you whatever food you want. GIVE A LITTLE HERE. But I digress. He’s healthy now, and back to being a big kid. So we’re good.

Next excuse. CHICKENS. Oh lordy I love chickens. You all should know this by now. My aunt Ronda has a ton of chickens. She has all sorts of amazing award winners. Phoenixes, Cochins, Old English, and so on. Well, she recently got news that she had to move. As such, she needs somewhere for her city of chickens to live for a while. Now who on earth does she know that loves chickens and has more acrage than they know what to do with? Oh, that’s right! My parent’s house. =)

Wednesday afternoon, right after work, I hopped in my car and drove the hour to their house. My mom and I got the truck and trailer ready then made the hour and a half drive down to my aunt’s. With the help of my cousin, uncle, and a family friend, we caught the 30-odd chickens and dismantled chicken town. We packed it all up and drove back home. (a dog and a dove were also added to the menagerie. Woo!) Some of the chickens are going to my aunt daphne, but most are settled in around my parent’s house. I didn’t get back into town until 9 that night, and ended up being in a computer lab until 2am (remember that homework?). Needless to say, the past few days have been a tad hectic. I would have taken pictures of the chicken exodus, but after all that work I just could not convince myself to haul my butt back out into the cold. I’m sure you understand. If not, then neener-neener-boo-boo.

Oh yeah! I forgot all about the baking. I mentioned it briefly in a post earlier, but didn’t explain everything. I was cooking because I had a sick-as-a-dog boyfriend and couldn’t go anywhere. (and if I cleaned, he moaned about how he should be helping. Riiiiight.) After those beans and apples, I also made some oatmeal muffins, and a millet wheat bread, and some onion flat bread. Now enter last night. Approximately 4,786 billion pizza commercials played in a row. Okay, it was more like 3, but they went through my head 4,786 billion times. Being a good little financial steward (or trying to be) I decided I’d stick it to the man and make my own pizza. Go me! You know what? It actually turned out really well. I love it! Nick and his roommate were also fans. Sure, I should probably be more modest about it, but I was expecting disaster. This was an awesome surprise. The crust was amazing. You can find the recipe here. I made half peperoni and olive, half cheese and olive. Aren’t you proud of me?

That’s been my story the past couple days. The coming ones will hold preparation for finals. Woopee. (That was sarcasm). What have you been up to?

Proceed over to the True Code of the West to read an excellent post. Also available to see is one of the least flattering pictures of me on earth. Enjoy. (I know you will. Know also I am judging you for being amused.)

PS- the post is about chickens. Which means it is AMAZING.

PPS- I just noticed the book I was reading in the picture. If you can also recognize it based on the 4 square inch area pictured, you’re a nerd. Just like me.