Chickens, both real and inanimate, seem to have taken up residence from one end of our home to the other.
Our three hens -- Snow, Nellie and Hope -- hang out in a coop and pen at the back end of our city lot. Decorative tea towels and assorted poultry-related knickknacks are on display in a room above the garage, which sports a chicken-themed clock. Reference books take up a shelf in the house, where eggs laid by "the girls" fill plastic cartons in the fridge.
Then there's Oyster Cracker, the name we have given to a figurine that "lives" on the front porch during the warm-weather months. (She moves to my desk in the winter.) In this photo, taken on the evening of May 6, Oyster Cracker sits atop her table, facing the setting sun. She is surrounded by seedlings from the farmers' market that are waiting to be planted.
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