Cluck cluck

My family back home are going to think I am completely and totally NUTS, but....

I want chickens. Meaning in my backyard. Pecking and clucking and ruffling their feathers indignantly. I'm probably allergic to them, but they'll be outside, right?

There will be no rooster, on that I'm firm. No cock-a-doodling at the crack of dawn. Just a couple (or three) hens to entertain us and supply us with fresh eggs. And maybe attract all the coyotes in the neighbourhood, but I'm trying to stay positive here.

Am I a total looney for even considering it? Okay yes. But there's something so appealing about the idea (and ideal) of being self-sufficient to a certain degree - thus our in-the-works veggie garden (which might be a complete and utter failure).

And when you can buy something like this to house them, and really, how cool would it be having some futuristic science-fiction style chicken coop in the backyard (they come in pink! Sweetpea would be overjoyed!), it's almost imperative to go for it. Right?

Thanks to Design Mom for the link.

Well, maybe not. But I'm not ruling it out in future, even though English hubby just said he'd rather have a dog.

Family back home shakes their collective head with resignation.