Thursday, November 12, 2009

Our Rooster's All Grown Up

Stormy's got his cock-a-doodle down, now he just needs some lungs to give it full throttle. :o) He sounds like a trumpet with one of those muffler thingy-mah-bobs in it like you see during the swinging hits hour on Lawrence Welk.





Note: We aren't particularly a family that names our chickens after military personnel, or anyone in the political realm. Okay, okay, there was that time last year when i wanted to disguise a chicken coop in the front yard as a political yard sign, and paint it up to say "My flock's for Barrack", but that was just a joke, right?

We aren't especially pro-war either. But the minute i saw the little chick that would just run it's siblings over like he was a semi just running over the little reflective buttons on the road stripes on the highway. "That's gotta be a rooster", thought Moose and i. Neurons snapped in my brain and i just started calling that lil' chick Stormin' Norman. The real Norman Schwarzkopf is a wonderful man in that he gave his life up to serve his country, and for that i am thankful. Yet i didn't name my rooster to mimic or praise any actions taken by Gen. Schwarzkopf or visa verse do i think that Gen Schwarzkopf's actions were chicken-like; not for any reason other than "Stormin' Norman" sounded like an appropo name for a rooster that runs over his siblings with nary a second glance. Thank you.

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Thanks for taking the time to read my silly lil musings. Hope you have a wonderful day!
~Whit