Little Orphan Annie

As I was washing dishes at the table outside my front door this morning, I noticed the chickens were once again hanging around and before I voiced my disapproval, I realized I am living the life…of Little Orphan Annie!

I wash the cups and saucers, and brush the crumbs away. I shooed the chickens off the porch and dust the hearth and sweep, Make the fire and baked the bread and earned her board and keep! Yes, that’s me, except for the other part about telling witch’s tales around the fire at night.

Haven’t done that yet. I don’t know why, but it struck me this morning. I guess all the stuff I do I have done for years, except the chicken part. Shooing chickens was never part of my life in the US. Kinda fun to be popular with the chickens here, though. I talk to them on the way to the outhouse. They’re always around, kinda like groupies…looking for a handout. I am a little concerned that my coffee grounds might make them hyper. Any input on that?