Rurality

Friday, February 04, 2005

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

6 comments:

Ed 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?; 2:11 PM
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.; 7:56 PM
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?; 8:12 PM
Anonymous said...: That's a beautiful photo. I love roosters. I collect rooster figurines. Jack hates them! He calls them "kitsch."; 6:18 PM
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!; 8:36 AM
Mardi Love said...: "the absence of kitsch makes our life unbearable." hundertwasser; 12:01 AM

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