Spencer, Smokey, and Cordelia meet the Chickens

                     Spencer liked to sit on the fence. In the sun. And watch the chickens next door.
                                 They were fat and feathery and  made wonderful bawk bawk sounds.

                               Spencer liked to share his adventures. He would come to the door.

                                              To come get someone to go and see the chickens.

                                       He was most insistent. And put on his most charming expression.

                                                Smokey sat beside him and listened to the chickens.
                                                            He wasn't all that interested.
                                  Chickens pecked and clucked too much. He twitched his ears.

                        Cordelia, on the other hand. Was MOST interested in the chickens.
                                                    She was far prettier than any of them.
                                        But they DID sport the most wonderful feather coats.

                               She wouldn't mind a feather coat. Maybe it would make her prettier....
                                     But she dare not leave her sentry duty at the compost bin. Or could she?

                                   There they were. Spencer's chickens. Fat and happy.
                                                           
                                                     Bawk bawk bawk.  The chickens cackled at the cats.

                           Spencer thought: Yum.

                                Smokey thought: Yuck.

                        Cordelia thought: Yum, yum, yum, yum. Who needs a feather coat.
                                                       I'm STILL the prettiest in the land.

WHILE the CHICKENS Cluck....

  Thursday morning.  Smarter-than-your-average-cat Spencer came calling. Must be Snack time. Then he was off to visit the chickens next door. The neighbours acquired chickens that clucked softly like flannel shoes, and hollered bawk bawk bawk like geese. Great amusement for any visiting cat....

  This Thursday it was rainy. The last rose of summer  bravely stood through it all. It was squooshy and gooshy. Through the rain I could still hear the chickens next door.....cluck, bawk, rowrrrr ( must be a cat).....

 The sog and bog held off  for a brief moment. Enough to air the working panel of a civil war Christmas table quilt, under the watchful eyes of Smokey and Spencer.  They had been to see the chickens.

 Now it was time to  catch some  rays of grey.
                              Grey skies overhead. And chickens next door going bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk. Must be another cat staring at them from the fence.

  I stitched another  quilt panel called Windmill, watched  it twirl around  in pattern.Through the open window, I could hear those chickens squabble and cluck, then came a yeowwwww, with a flash of gold and grey ripping through the yard. Must be big chickens. Able to take care of themselves.

Put together  yet another panel with sequins and holly corners. Christmas fa -la -la -la  la. On a roll these days. I'm running out of thread. Will have to go buy more soon. Meanwhile, Spencer stood guard in the green and bog of outdoors. Playing hide and go seek-those-chickens, with his brother . Smokey  crept to the fence and stood on it , looking down at the chickens in their pen. Cluck , Cluck, buck, buck......
             
  I finally got around to the last panel of coral and gold. Ready for Christmas. Much done, on a Thursday, while the rain rolled in , the wind blew wild, and  the cats did smack their lips at the chickens who clucked and bawked  in their house that the neighbours built.....