Our friend Pamela Rickenbach was impressed with our hens, she called them the “Grand Dame Hens,” and I hadn’t thought of them in that way, but when she said it, it made perfect sense. Our hens are regal, they are Grand Dames. They look great, are calm and imperious (except when Fate is running after them, when they cluck indignantly and hide). The whole farm is their realm, they might pop up on the front lawn near the road, out in the pasture, under a bush or on the porch.
Maria saves some of the best food we eat for them, she stores it in a special dish, and when they see Maria, they come running. No one can tell me animals are not about nurture.
They are industrious and, after molding, beautiful in their own way. I must be honest, I don’t love chickens all that much, but I have come to admire and respect these three, they are quite grand.