My nemisis, JT Cluck

Last spring we took 7 chickens from the kinder classes.  When you take baby chicks, you hope for hens but roosters can happen.

We ended up with 3 hens and 4 roosters.  The cute baby chicks are now grown and the roosters just aren't my favorite creatures in the world.  Honestly, I don't care that much for the hens either because they're shifty looking.  Yes, I realize I sound ridiculous but it's my yard and my blog so I'm going to write about my ridiculousness.

The king rooster of pack is the only white one and I call him JT Cluck.  I took that name from the Hank the Cowdog series.  He's the boss of that chicken crew and not very friendly.

JT is leading the rest of the flock to leave their chicken yard (a portable electric fence that doesn't seem to even slow them down) and they are getting into the ditch, eying my front yard.

I put up with a lot.  I currently have a broken downstairs toilet that I wish were working for a play date we're hosting on Halloween.  My dishwasher is broken and I've gotten used to washing by hand.  In the grand scope of the world, these are small potatoes and I'm looking at the small inconviences as a way to be more thankful for what we have.  Like running water that's hot quickly and boys who are potty trained.

But I draw the line at JT being in my yard.  My husband's solution?  The racoons will get them if they're not smart enough to stay in the fence.  Hmmm....I'm no animal activist, but that strikes this city girl as not a great plan.

So here's me, resigning that this life won't be perfect.  Toilets will break.  Dishwashers will, too.  Roosters will eye my yard.  But there will be a day that we'll have money in the budget for a wonderful chicken set up (here's me being jealous of Nea and her hens' lovely digs), my appliances will work and maybe I'll even be more appreciative of the loveliness of chickens. 

For today, I'm accepting that God never promised me a rose garden.  I'm going to focus instead on the blessings I see around me:  a sweet little boy whose clothes don't match (he insisted on wearing red shorts with his Aggie football jersey) but whose heart is precious, a car that I can depend on to get us where we need to go and a husband who provides a safe home and living for us.