Friday, February 04, 2005


The rooster who is going to end up in the stewpot if he doesn't quit attacking me.

8 comments:

orphyus said...

I was terrified of them as a little boy, when we would go visit my great grandmother in eastern Kentucky. You certainly caught him a "candid" moment, didn't you?

Susan said...

Stew him--we always get more roos than we need, anyway! LOL

Susan<--I see dumplings in his future!

Bing said...

handsome fella. ... STEW HIM!!!!!

Rurality said...

When he's in mid-crow at least he's not trying to bruise me! My grandparents had chickens but they stayed in houses all the time. I can still remember seeing chicken feet hanging upside down on their clothesline... but they spared us the dispatching and plucking because of our tender (city-kid) years I suppose.

Anonymous said...

If you drop-kick him like a football, I promise he won't attack you anymore. Just be sure you are wearing sturdy boots ! (It might take more than once, however) =o)

Besides...... roosters never get tender. Ever had meat you had to chew for three days and it never got smaller in your mouth?

jenni said...

That's a beautiful photo. I love roosters. I collect rooster figurines. Jack hates them! He calls them "kitsch."

Rurality said...

Thanks! But be careful... I have a friend whose great aunt has a collection of over 1000 roosters. One of them is bigger than she is. So far I haven't been able to convince her to take one of the real ones though.

There is nothing wrong with a little kitsch in one's life!

mardi said...

"the absence of kitsch makes our life unbearable." hundertwasser