The chickens are all "WTF?" about snow.

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What, what, WHAT?

Today is the first snow of the new winter. It's all sparkly and sunny, and the fresh coat of white makes me think of how nice it'll be to kick back and enjoy the holidays. Unlike last year, when I was sweating the deadline for Running Away to Home, among other things.

In addition, today is the very first snow of the chickens' lives.

And they are freaking out.

I let them roam the yard during the day, so they're used to getting out in the morning after I drop off the kids. I like them outside rather than in the coop, though it means I spend a significant portion of each afternoon hosing off things the chickens have pooped upon. My theory: Happy chickens, yummy eggs. We'll see if this theory holds true when they start producing within the next few months.

So anyway, yesterday it was all rainy and gross and I didn't let them out. They really complained when I closed the coop after freshening the food and water, rather than standing back so they can show off for me and fly a few feet on their way out for the day. Chicken bitching sounds a little like saying the word "berk" in a really low voice, without moving your lips.

Try it now.

Yeah, kind of like that.

Today, it was snowy, but my friend Eve assured me that chickens can walk in snow. I did the food and water and stood back. They started to fly out, then, upon landing in snow, they began screaming. Chicken screaming sounds like saying the word "mack" in a really high-pitched voice, without moving your lips.

Uh huh. Like that.

The Ameraucanas, who are by far the biggest show-offs (though a little standoffish), flew too far and got stranded by the fence.

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Save us from the white devil carpet!

They were so frozen in fear that they even let me pick them up and return them to the flock, which had returned to the coop in a panic.

They've been standing at the coop's threshold ever since.

I felt pretty bad for them, because try as I might, I can't talk to the chickens and explain snow. So I tossed them a bunch of old bread from the book-signing at Eden the other night. Carbs are soothing, right?

Plus, I know how they feel. Everything involved with this first book experience feels so fresh and fascinating (and sometimes terrifying). I'm kinda standing here at the threshold, too, digesting the past month.

Thanks to you, my earliest and best readers, for tossing out those soothing carbs—the many private notes of encouragement and shared excitement, the public words of affection for the book and me. It's all made this brand-new experience less intimidating and more like a monthlong party.

Hey, I'm going to go see if the chickens are still standing in the same spot. It's been 3 hours now.

Yep. They are. I'm sure they'll get used to it all soon enough, and barrel into the next new thing.

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