I got two more chickens, and it's great to have four again. No more excursions outside of the coop, no matter what.
These are full-grown bantam Rhode Island Reds, and they are much smaller than my other two, one of which is a Barnevelder, and the other possibly a mixed breed. The new cockerel is fighting a little with my old hens, who are bothering "his" hen, but they are already calming down, and hopefully some day I can have happier chickens and more eggs again.
Since my rooster's death my hens haven't left the nesting boxes or laid eggs, and one of them is turning an ashen color, feathers and comb. I hope more birds and and a new rooster will help her feel better. Winter isn't their favorite time I know.
Cassandra stood poised at her vanity mirror. Her long hair, which spilled past her waist, was twisted in one hand, and in the other was a pair of jeweled scissors.
As she lifted the scissors to cut, a larger hand wrapped around hers. Cassandra withdrew with a cry. "Kell! I didn't see you come in." He took the scissors away. "I take it you got the job." "I did," she said crisply. "Return my scissors to me." "Not if you intend to cut off your hair. What do you mean by this nonsense?" "I can't have long hair in the laboratory. It might catch fire or something." "Look there." He guided her to the window. Below them lay the scattered remains of a centuries-old city park. The benches were near invisible due to growth, while the pond had extended far beyond its original boundaries. Ducks floated serenely on its surface. "We played as children. Do you remember how you prized your hair?" Cassandra laughed a little drily. "Of course. I insisted all my powers as princess lay in my hair. I was haughty. unworthy of the friendship of you and your sister." ...