Goals of the Heart by Cheryl Whitestone

Yes it may seem like a ridiculous goal to have chickens (particularly as an adult), but I have had a secret desire to someday have chickens. Last year I realized that goal. As an artist my goals have always been to be a great painter which is, in my estimation, able to capture light and the true feel of a place.

Another goal was to make a living at this profession. Fortunately I have and am making a living with my art, and in lean times art has taught me how to stretch a dollar.

I made homemade ricotta cheese the other day (p.s. it’s easy).  Don’t let the economic experts bring you down; people are buying paintings. I sold two chicken paintings a couple of weeks ago. Apparently I am not the only one who loves these strange little creatures. The paintings were priced lower that I normally charge, on sale at mere chicken feed pricing. I think that helped make the sale. They were a great buy. I like great buys too!

Chickens, oh yeah, I bought 4 Americana (pullets, this is what they call the teenagers). Americana’s are the chickens that lay the Martha Stewart blue-green eggs. I guess Martha owns that color now. Whenever I refer to the color this way everyone seems to know the pastel hue I am talking about. Anyway, it took 3-4 months until they were mature enough to lay eggs.

Then two of my hens started crowing. What? Magdalena was aggressive, so that was no surprise. And then Isis started crowing as well. Because Magdalena charged our teacup poodle and Chihuahua, we called the farm and returned her/him. We renamed Isis; he is know known as Horus. He is fairly docile, not a mean rooster, and is so beautiful and quirky we can’t part with him. This year Isadora, our dancing hen, got broody (sitting on the nest). She managed even with my partner’s interference to birth one baby. Penelope Peeper Specklehead, hey if you only have one chick it needs a long name. She is pictured upper right.

The other hens are; foreground right, Guinevere. She is the practical hen. She is courageous and gets right down to business. Guinevere helped Horus and I chased an invading opossum out of the hen house one night at 4 am. On the left is Rosarita Bustle Butt, because her fluffy rear is so pronounced. Rosarita was exchanged for Magdalena; she is a docile blonde and Horus’ favorite hen-friend.

When my friends come over we go out back to sit and watch what I call the “chicken show.” It’s so soothing hearing their clucking. I believe I can understand what they are saying. No, I am not sniffing turpentine. I do get beautiful pale blue-green fresh free-range eggs almost every day. Chicken paintings are selling; these birds are paying for themselves.

Want your pet Immortalized on canvas to hang in your great hall? Call me or e-mail me. I will work for chicken feed!


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