It’s a clear cold morning. The wind is howling outside. I can hear the faint deranged barking of my landlady’s dog. There are no clouds in the sky, but it feels like some kind of storm is coming.
And because Google searchers are desperate to know more about “exiled chickens”, here is the view out my OTHER window (after the jump).
My apartment has only two walls with windows: one is the balcony which you know and love so well, the other windows are in my front room and they overlook an unattractive concrete barn. But if I stick the camera out the window a bit, there is a nice snow-covered slope with my landlady’s chicken house. That’s where the Exiled Chickens live!
You’re welcome, world.
Look at all that snow! Unbelievable. We still don’t have snow here in New Hampshire, and I overhear people actually complaining about it. Not me. I got over winter a long time ago.
Exiled chickens, I love it!
Did I fail to mention that I have been getting hits from people Googling “exiled chickens”? Yep! Apparently the world is burning to know more about banished poultry.