Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
"Every night my honey lamb and I, sit alone and talk and watch a hawk MAKING LAZY CIRCLES IN THE SKY.." Living here I watch the hawk circling and it is not lazy, it is simply moving closer and closer, so I teach the chickens not to believe the song.
No, I can't really walk around with one like that, unless it's one of the babies with a towel under it. Big or little, any of them would poop all down my leg, cause chickens poop every few seconds.
do you really walk around holding one like that? because i like it!
ReplyDelete"Every night my honey lamb and I, sit alone and talk and watch a hawk MAKING LAZY CIRCLES IN THE SKY.." Living here I watch the hawk circling and it is not lazy, it is simply moving closer and closer, so I teach the chickens not to believe the song.
ReplyDeleteNo, I can't really walk around with one like that, unless it's one of the babies with a towel under it. Big or little, any of them would poop all down my leg, cause chickens poop every few seconds.
ReplyDelete