That is right, never in a million years did I think I would be this crazy chicken lady, but here I am rocking it. Ya see, when I was six years old I was playing in the backyard when a “Banty“ rooster came after me and flogged me. I cried and screamed and yelled for my mama. I told her the rooster “feathered me”. Didnt have a photo of me in my younger years close enough to a chicken so this one of me showing my pig will have to suffice.
Fast forward four years and I had a rooster attack me in the hen house. The rooster even attacked my grandmother. This attack rooster was much like the one in this recent photo.
Needless to say after these brutal attacks I became deathly afraid of chickens. So afraid that when daddy asked me to complete farm chores, which required me to walk through the flock, I refused to do said chores or go near the chickens. Daddy was going to give a whooping
for disobeying and I was going to take that spanking. It was then he realized my fear for these velociraptor creatures.
Fast forward 40 years:
I knew I loved farm fresh eggs with the dark yellow yolks like these. No photo shop needed.
I also remembered my daddy hatching chicks with an incubator. So naturally I wanted to relive some of my childhood and try my hand at hatching eggs. Chicken math is a real thing in case you ever wondered.
What I didn’t think about was that these cute little fuzz balls would then grow in to the velociraptor creatures that could eat you. Kinda like the rooster that would peck your head into a nub in the book “JUNIE B. JONES HAS A PEEP IN HER POCKET”. Ya see, I had to do a ton of soul searching and praying in order to work with chickens as an adult.
Fast forward another 10 years and here I am, the Crazy Chicken Lady.