Chicken feed for nightclubs

If we'd never moved to the country, and I'd never agreed to let the kids get chickens, then I'd never know about this product:



You know, it may surprise you to know that I go for weeks at a time without even looking at the chickens, because it does seem I do most of my writing about them. I actually don't give them much of a thought, save for Hef, the rooster. And that thought is that he belongs in a pot of boiling water.

"But you always wake up before him!" exclaim my family when I complain or sigh every time he crows. It isn't that I hate him now, it's that I'm hating him in advance of this summer when I don't have to get out of bed in the dark to make five lunches and breakfasts...