Monday 1 June 2015

Day 269. Early Winter.

Bush eggs: none. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: three-quarters full.

Hey, inspired by Ella’s ‘trip’ to the pond for a drink/dunk, I’ve just made up an excellent joke:

Q: What do you call a wet chicken with no brain?
A: A duck.

Feathers, I crack me up! I reckon, given time, Matthew and I could have been a good team, a Comedy Chicken Performing Troupe. We could have traveled. We could have seen the WORLD.


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