Recently news has traveled around the farm about the Chicken Movement which I have ignored for the very reason that it was ridiculous. And I was not the only one who laughed at my siblings exclamations of the Chicken Movement.
First of all they had been watching Chicken Run a lot and had let their imaginations carry them away so that they mixed up real life and fiction. When the chickens began burrowing in the sand by there pen walls they claimed the chickens were organizing an escape. The next stories were that the roosters were against them and organizing a KKK to kill us and take over the farm. These tales were dramatically told wide eyed, along with hand motions and voice inflections to convince all of us of the serious situation. I laughed and protested against these claims while I explained to them that chickens enjoy burrowing in the sand and roosters chased people because they were protecting the hens.
But tonight everything almost changed when I collided with the Chicken Organization. Thankfully I retrieved common sense in time before going insane.
It all started when I had to do the chicken chores because my brothers has forgotten about Tae Kwon Do and had to leave in a rush leaving chores abandoned. A while later Mom sent my five year old sister and me to do them. We collected the eggs first and did not have any serious trouble with the chickens except for a broody hen that refused to get off one of the nests. My next task was to give the chickens their grain behind the coop; I did this quite casually but my leisure moments did not last long since a glance behind me warned me of terrible danger. I turned to see a rooster with a terribly sharp beak, spurred legs, and gleaming eyes coming straight at me. Instead of making use of my bucket I tried to make a beeline for the door but my left knee wanted to buckle and relax at the same time making it difficult, at last I managed to get to the door and slam it behind me just in time...I nearly took the roosters head with me. As I had run all my siblings stories about the chickens had come pouring into my head so that I let out a horrified scream and jammed a rock up to the door to hold it closed while I shook off my exaggerated mindset. Mary was digging around behind the barn when this happened and at my scream she looked up and asked what was wrong...I just gulped and croaked “nothing” and turned away to get rid of my last shudder.
I felt very silly for letting my imagination concoct such a funny picture and letting myself believe the silly farm fantasy. In my desperate two second run for life I truly believed in the hilarious chicken KKK...All I can think of is Animal Farm by G. Orwell (except that it ISN”T really happening!)
Lydia
First of all they had been watching Chicken Run a lot and had let their imaginations carry them away so that they mixed up real life and fiction. When the chickens began burrowing in the sand by there pen walls they claimed the chickens were organizing an escape. The next stories were that the roosters were against them and organizing a KKK to kill us and take over the farm. These tales were dramatically told wide eyed, along with hand motions and voice inflections to convince all of us of the serious situation. I laughed and protested against these claims while I explained to them that chickens enjoy burrowing in the sand and roosters chased people because they were protecting the hens.
But tonight everything almost changed when I collided with the Chicken Organization. Thankfully I retrieved common sense in time before going insane.
It all started when I had to do the chicken chores because my brothers has forgotten about Tae Kwon Do and had to leave in a rush leaving chores abandoned. A while later Mom sent my five year old sister and me to do them. We collected the eggs first and did not have any serious trouble with the chickens except for a broody hen that refused to get off one of the nests. My next task was to give the chickens their grain behind the coop; I did this quite casually but my leisure moments did not last long since a glance behind me warned me of terrible danger. I turned to see a rooster with a terribly sharp beak, spurred legs, and gleaming eyes coming straight at me. Instead of making use of my bucket I tried to make a beeline for the door but my left knee wanted to buckle and relax at the same time making it difficult, at last I managed to get to the door and slam it behind me just in time...I nearly took the roosters head with me. As I had run all my siblings stories about the chickens had come pouring into my head so that I let out a horrified scream and jammed a rock up to the door to hold it closed while I shook off my exaggerated mindset. Mary was digging around behind the barn when this happened and at my scream she looked up and asked what was wrong...I just gulped and croaked “nothing” and turned away to get rid of my last shudder.
I felt very silly for letting my imagination concoct such a funny picture and letting myself believe the silly farm fantasy. In my desperate two second run for life I truly believed in the hilarious chicken KKK...All I can think of is Animal Farm by G. Orwell (except that it ISN”T really happening!)
Lydia
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