c-h-i-c-k-e-n! that's the way you spell chicken

After the concert we stopped over to see kids and check on the chickens.  The back yard was beautiful in the evening sun, feels like you're out in the country, not half a block from a huge intersection and highway.

That kid ended up with a cut finger from the mesh. She was a good sport.

Everybody's doing well, and the chickens are tame and full of personality.    So  sweet.

Aaahhh May, you sweet devil.   So glad you're here.

Love, Grandma