Every morning I meet up with four busy little ladies. You know the kind, never able to sit still and a bit agitated at life in general and forever chattering. Well, I make the trek to see them when the world wakes up and it is first light outside. It is our daily routine. They greet me and dance around (as if they have yet to find the restroom -so to speak.) Anyway, I tell them all hello, not calling each by name as we have never exchanged names. We never found that to be important. Collectively I just call them “the little ladies.”
Just by observation, one would think that my ladies are all headed off on some big important sale the way they strut around every morning. Places to go and people to meet. Each step deliberate and accentuated with that head bob that they do so well. The little ladies watch me carefully as I enter their house. A bit nervous and prone to prancing about as they make sure I don’t dilly dally inside. However, I know that it is the scratch that is the all important free-bee of the day. At this point, the ladies are quite chatty as the scratch comes out. These women always have something to say. I nod back as if I understand the subject of their conversation. As we part ways, I tell them I will see them later and remind them of our bargain. I feed them scratch in the morning and someone leaves me an egg by night. I keep my end of the bargain but the ladies not quite so much. I then laugh as I remind myself that for the past few minutes I have been talking with chickens. I wonder if they find it all funny too. And oh lordy, what do the neighbors think.