Clucking cheeky!

As the Easter sun sets and a new batch of bread rises, I find that our univited guest, after contentedly pottering around all day, has rather shamelessly settled herself in for the night in the cage at the back of my garden. What nerve! I suppose it was once a chook shed, and recognising it as such and deeming it unused real estate, this impertinent piece of poultry decided she was completely within her chooky rights to move in. A squatter, that's what she is. What to do, what to do? I don't particularly want to be a chicken owner. *sigh* I never ever had problems like this when I was living in St Kilda.

And Polly, who has been stalking said unworried bird all day, is still at it. She's presently hanging almost upside down in the dark from the chook shed roof to peer in at the snoozing fowl.

Otherwise, apart from chicken wrangling and bread baking, I've been writing. Though not as productive at the keyboard as I had planned, I did start and finish the first draft of a story that's been in my notepad since 4/7-10 called Thalasophobia in a Time of Global Warming, which, hopefully, is not at all what the reader expects it to be from that title. I'll let it sit for a week or two, then get to work polishing it.