Hi Chicky, My Name Is Norah

We've had these things here at the house for almost a month now, and yet I have hardly said a thing about them since their arrival. I don't HATE our chickens. I don't like them, either. I am most indifferent to them. They are a part of my life and I accept that. They are like the big rug in our dining room. I know it's there. I'm fine with it there. I understand that cleaning it and taking a bit of care of it comes with the territory. But I wouldn't be sad if it just disappeared (unless we put it there to cover some hideous spots in our hardwood floor--which, considering the state of our house just might be the case).

The kids, on the other hand, are quite fond of the chickens. And guess which one of them loves the chickens the most. Well, I guess I gave that one away with the title of this post. It's Gabe! Ha, ha! Tricked you!

No, I didn't. It's Norah. She loves the little pecky things. It kind of surprises me, actually. All along I pegged Norah as my ally in this house full of outdoorsy people. I foresaw us lounging around, reading books or watching movies, sharing inside jokes about funny things we'd seen or discussed, looking down our noses at the unwashed masses (well, masses in that both Libby and Gabe have mass, each) who spent their time WILLINGLY outdoors in whatever terrible weather Kansas had to offer us that day.

But it turns out kind of not. She is a big fan of being outside. And, though it pains me to do it (quite literally since I end up with sunburns and bug bites), I encourage her to be outside as much as I can possibly tolerate it. I know, I know. I'm a martyr. And awesome.

One of her favorite things to do this past week has been to pick up a small handful of mulberries that have fallen from our tree in the backyard, carry them up to the chickens, and feed them the berries.

It was so cute that I had to get some video.

Also, during the second one--though you have to listen pretty closely to hear her say it--she introduces herself to the chickens. That's where the name of the post came from. I only know this because, after I stopped filming, she re-introduced herself another three or four times, so I was able to figure out what she was saying right before she stuck her toes through the chicken wire and got pecked.

As I posted the first of these videos, I realized that I have a few others on the memory card still that I haven't shared from the past few weeks. Apparently I've been remiss. Again. AND today was Gabe's 4th birthday, so I feel as though I need to do a four year review sometime soon, too. And, obviously, Norah's birthday is Sunday as well (and we're having their joint party Sunday, so there ought to be plenty to post about there, too). So, one of two things will happen. There will either be a mess of posts in the next week, or I will once again forget about most of it, put up some half-assed "video roundup" post sometime next week, and call it good. Which will it be? It must be sweeps week with a cliffhanger like this!