Not all Chickens are equal

I found myself worrying about what to write or say next and I've concluded that that's insanely silly: (i) because no one's reading this (ii) because neither it nor I am that important. There's probably a lesson to learn here.

Meanwhile I have learned that all chickens are not the same. Following my brother-in-law's instructions to feed his chickens: (i) Say good morning, (ii) lay down food (iii) open coop. Turns out the Matilda is bold and brave, first out the coop. Maud and Fat Maggie waited till I had gone and then came down, ate a little and admired themselves in the mirror. If I had to choose I hope to be like Matilda when I grow up.

We did a lot of driving this week so we listened to a CD I burnt of me reading CS Lewis' Silver Chair. I tried to make Puddleglum (my favourite character) sound like Marvin the Paranoid Android.