Chicken Kingdom and my Old Man . . . . . . . .

Yep,  getting my blog on.  I am a blogginite.  What now? Attempt a new picture insert based on some helpful hints. 

This is cool.  I like this Advanced Editor whosey-whatsit for pictures.  For the first few weeks efforts may be limited to nothing more than fiddling with photos and trying to come up with witty captions.  To the left is my 4 year old son, Jackson.  This was in November of 2009 back in West Virginia at my father's house.  My father has the incredible ability to find no time whatsoever to just slow down.  Despite not needing to, he still works a full time job and puts an additional 40 plus hours in on his newest creation - - Chicken Kingdom.  Chicken Kingdom is an approximate 1/2 plot that was once his backyard, but has since turned into a veritable wealth of chicken suburbia and poultry expansion - inhabited by numerous hens, roosters and a few rogue ducks - - - I know, I know . . .the ducks seem to find a more accepting attitude of their lifestyle in Chicken Kingdom.  Kind of like a Feathered San Francisco - - -"Feathered San Francisco??"  A bit redundant,  but hey . . its my blog.

The tastefully stylish gentleman in the ORANGE camouflage is my father, THE KING - completing the ensemble with his pajama pants and Crocs.  He thinks he is "getting over" every time he buys from Goodwill.  The minion being put to task is 11 year old Elliot, my son.  Elliot did not seem to find the endearing quaintness to the whole situation and hid for the bulk of the remainder of the weekend.  Chicken Kingdom evidently has bitten the "Immigration Issue" right in the bud.  To the right of my father are two ducks that had wandered up from the south, (Georgia, possibly) seeking asylum.  The governing immigration body C.L.U.C.K. (Can't Let Uther Chickens Knest . . .I know, I know . .phonetics . .they are chickens for Pete's sake . . .linguistics are not their strongpoint) were not impressed by their tale of fording the Tennessee River, unswayed by stories of down pillows . .however the chickens did give pause at the tale of a "Turdurcken" . . .interrupting the description of a duck, inside a chicken, inside a turkey with the comment "We're not into that here . . .marriage is between a hen and a rooster. . . usually . . .but hey, you are ducks"

Fortunately, in a twist of West Virginia Irony, my father decided to give aid to the wayward ducks and provided them with a much appreciated meal . . OF CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP . . .well played Dad . . .well played.....