Chicky chatty

I’m kinda fresh faced when it comes to the service of feeding our chickens, so the last couple of days have felt like a bit of a privilege to don the waiter’s apron while Rob is in Amsterdam.
Yesterday I spent a little time just sitting with them in their space, something I’d heard others do and enjoy recently and it was really lovely actually. Their friendliness is quite something, letting me stroke and hold them, they’re so light and soft. But the thing that got me most was this ticklish chattering they do, they just wouldn’t let up. It was like they were fully expecting me to understand every squawky muttering, take a keen interest in what they had to voice, and more pressingly, to engage with them in what seemed to be a very important dialogue. They had me on the latter of course, and it was all enough for me to recline happily into absent mindism, and forget to check the nesting boxes.So anyway, today I was greeted by this:

Pete