The Chicken(s)

"Once upon a morning frost, while I calculated, knit and thought
over many a swatch; and cozy dog Rascal laid upon the floor —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
  Only this and nothing more."

If I had more time and was more clever I'd re-do the whole poem to tell you the story of how this morning just past sunrise, as I was knitting by the fire, with Rascal at my feet, we heard a tapping at our door. He startled, and I hoped there was no-one there as I was in my bright orange pajama pants. Happily, it was not a person, but 4 of my more intrepid hens, who somehow escaped their run (I think Avery forgot to close the gate all the way last night), and were on the porch, looking in the house! 

It was so funny to see them looking in at us, and maybe I'm anthropomorphizing them, but they did seem to look longingly at the fire on this cold morning.

Happily, they are trained to follow when I'm holding a bowl and say "here chick, chick, chick" so they followed me eagerly back to their run and had a breakfast snack of spaghetti noodles from last night and some apple cores. 

Now I'm back to work, to rejoin Rascal by the fire and squeeze in some knitting before the demands of the day.

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