I don't choose the ads on my blog, but they are generated by some computer programmed to scan the content of my blogs. The ads are meant to match the content of my musings. It seems to have a lag time of several weeks, but I imagine it is also difficult for this computer, because I tend to write about a variety of things.
Before Christmas, I had some spice packet recipes to be used as gifts - add your own chicken. Chicken recipes websites and spice websites started showing up about a week later. Then, I noticed one for PETA concerning "The Hidden Lives of Chickens". Being a chicken owner and eater, I thought I ought to check out the link, since it was on my blogsite. (I try to check most of the ads just to make sure they aren't totally objectionable.)
We raise chickens for pets and for eggs, and wouldn't eat our own chickens, being named and all. We love chickens. The article contained many true and interesting facts about chickens. I don't know if all the information was correct, but they seemed to leave out a few other facts. Such as: chickens in a coop will seek out and peck to death any chicks that are not their own. Chickens can be very cruel to the chickens on the bottom of the pecking order. Roosters can be ruthless.
A picture of "Oscar", a Barred Rock rooster we once owned, still sits on the desk of my insurance agent. In all the years he had been an insurance agent, he'd never been bitten by a dog while photographing house or visiting clients, but he was attacked and "bitten" by Oscar. He was photographing our barn for his records when Oscar spied him.
Oscar would run across our lawn like a velociraptor and attack anyone moving about. His beak would put holes in clothing, and if you were unlucky to get the full force of the attack, he'd put a hole in your leg, too. My children came to be afraid to go outside without a stick if Oscar was loose. He was really bold to go after my husband, but he was smart, too. Madder than a wet hen, K would go to kick him, and the rooster would jump right at the point of impact, dodging the blow. Even madder, K would kick even harder. I don't think he ever managed to connect.
After hearing my mom scream on my front steps as Oscar went after her, he almost knocked him down my dad, and he scared several friends' children, Oscar became chicken and dumplings. Oh, not on my table, but a friend came to claim him from the coop while we were on vactation. All we found were a few feathers. I imagine he was a pretty tough bird.
Oh, and I had chicken for dinner tonight. See recipe below for Herb Marinated Chicken. It was great!
Friday, January 07, 2005
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