The Wild Chicken

There is a wild chicken living in our new neighborhood.  To be more specific, living in the tree in front of my in-laws house.  She was there when they moved in and none of the neighbors seem to know where she came from.  Of course, she has been adopted and named Henrietta.  Her eggs can be found all around the yard and a in a decorative basket on the neighbors porch.  Although I've seen evidence of Henrietta, I have not actually spotted her myself (note the lack of photo of a chicken).  She roosts high in the tree at night and gallivants around the neighborhood during the day. 

One of my favorite little people and I were talking about Nini (her grandmother) using Henrietta's eggs in a cake she was baking.  She exclaimed, "I've never eaten eggs from a chicken before!"  To which I replied, where do you think the eggs in the grocery store come from?  This was followed by "where does our food come from" lesson, while an idea for an episode for Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution popped into my head.  Being a very witty five year old she hastily corrected her statement and said with as much excitement as the first time, "I've never eaten eggs from a wild chicken before!"  True, true little one. 

As I am writing this, I can't help but think this is a great storyboard for a children's book.  If only I could draw...

I'm off to eat a piece of Henrietta's cake.  Enjoy the weekend.