Because I said so

Yesterday it was a steamy 93 degrees. Today it is a blustery 59 degrees. Certainly a large drop in temperature, but not a truly dramatic, "Day After Tomorrow" kind of temp drop. My children would tell you otherwise. Combine the need to get to school a little earlier than usual--like 5 minutes, not an hour--and the suddenly arctic temperature, and all hell breaks loose in the coop.

"It's ffrreeezzzing outside," A tells me, as she stands on the deck wearing a t-shirt while I brave the cold to feed the chickens. "Yes, it's a little cooler. But it wouldn't be so cold if you wore more than a t-shirt outside." She returns, wrapped in a blanket, dragging it on the ground so as to cover her much shorter brother who has emerged from the house and is standing beside her. "I'm still cold." Attention children of the coop, there's this new invention. It's called a house. Go in it. Leave me alone to throw kibble at the bantams.

"Will it snow today?" No, it will not snow today. "But it's cold." It's not THAT cold. "Do I need long-sleeves?" Yes, you need long-sleeves. "Should I wear my parka?" No, you do not need your parka. "But I was cold on the deck." That's because you were wearing only a t-shirt and my once-nice blanket. It's now covered in dog hair and leaves because you made a toga out of it and wore it on the deck. "So, should I wear a parka?" NO. "Why are you yelling at us" I'm not yelling! Oh for God's sake wear the damn parka. "No, I don't think I really need it."

You all need to hurry up, I sweetly tell my offspring. "Why," queries A. Because you have to be at school a little earlier for rehearsal. "Oh, where are my clothes?" In your room, on the steps to your loft. 20 minutes elapse. Sweetie, you need to hurry, we need to leave in 5 minutes. "Oh, where are my clothes?" No response from Mom. "Moooommm, where are my clothes?" Sweetie, darling, sweetie darling. You said you didn't like me yelling, so I'm not responding. "Oh, is this them on the steps?"

We arrive at school with moments to spare. "I'm cold." You'll warm up once you get moving. "But I'm cold now! I wish I'd worn my parka! Why wouldn't you let me wear my parka??!" I shove, I mean gently nudge them into the school. The last words I hear from them, "Why is it so durn hot in this building?" Good thing you didn't wear your parka.

Impending Doom

Earthquakes, a hurricane bearing down on us. What's next, locusts? I didn't feel the earthquake and I'm not sold on this hurricane thing. Afterall, I had an aunt named Irene and she was batty. The idea that she could plan five days out for anything, much less the devastation of the Eastern Seaboard is ludicrous.

But the ladies--all seven of them--seem to think something is up. Rarely do they run for the coop earlier than a minute to sunset, and never do the little ones cuddle with the older ladies. But running and cuddling they are, in the middle of the day. The four-month-old chicks were pushed up against the four-year-old hen, and the Polish Crested was attempting to get between the two bantams--a daring feat in itself since they hate to be separated from one another.

So, we shall see. A case of animal foretelling or just crazy hens? I'm hoping for the latter.