Our protagonist discovers that since the flock is absent a real rooster, she has become its proxy…
The flock was coming into maturity. They were almost full size at five months, so their enormous feet were …

When last we left our heroine, she was blindly and stupidly chasing after chicks through her Garden Paradise…
Our chicks. Four girls, built of feathers and destruction. They were, according to the flock hierarchy:
Mimi, a Cuckoo …

When last we left our story, Garbanzo the rooster had been placed in a new home by the hair of his wattles….
In the meantime, the chicks were growing. The brooder in the basement had been …

Our chicken story begins with gardening, as I suspect many urban chicken stories do. Over the last several years we have been shifting masses of soil and plants, sheets of asphalt, mountains of compost to …

I love it when I’m rewarded with evidence of misguided fashion do-not-go-there’s. In this case, fashion icon Gwen Stefani is wearing (Batiked? Tie-Dyed?) Hammer pants on a jaunty little stroll. She should read the cautionary …

Last week I got new glasses. Not just any glasses, either, but the ones that announce the onset of deterioration. The ones that say, “The eyes are tired now; next stop: doddering.” I’m sad about …

*I found this old gem hiding, deeply buried in god-knows-what alley of my hard-drive. I can’t believe I never published it. If I did publish it, I can’t believe it I don’t remember it. It’s …

New and unusual designs from a roving band of lagomorph gangsters.

Where does one begin? With the mortgage debacle, days to closing on the new house and learning that we may not be approved for one of our loans? Or maybe the movers dropping our furniture …

A few weeks ago, my husband decided to read the real estate listings so that we might live vicariously through others by visiting open houses. It’s a hobby we picked up after we bought our …

I actually remember the day I discovered MetaFilter. I was reading the now-defunct Brill’s Content and there was Mr. Haughey on the cover. I went to MetaFilter and a universe opened up to me. I …

The neighbors behind our house keep reaching new heights. They’re sort of like hick-hippies, and each new addition of crap in their backyard makes me yearn for a Berlin Wall between our properties.
All told, we …

I went to the chicken-naming party. Like old time Chicago, there was a great abundance of voter fraud, wheeling and dealing for personal chicken-name nomination, gerrymandering and a general sense of raucous bad voter faith. …

My neighbor who always has mom-parties called me up last night. She’s British, so think “nice accent” when you read it.
“We’ve got three lovely ladies in the new coop,”* she said. “They’re quite beautiful. Harry …