Researching Chickens? Why Not?
You don't know what you don't know until you try to write about it. Chickens, for example. The fourth Sleuth Sisters has chickens, and though I grew up with them, I guess I wasn't really paying attention. We always had chickens because, like the punch line in the old joke, we needed the eggs. My grandmother was the expert, and now that I need details about raising chickens, she's not here to help. I've been reading online about feed, temperature, water, and safety measures, which brought back some childhood events, like playing catch with eggs--that almost never ends well. My most memorable chicken experience was terrifying. My little sister was probably three years old, and we were playing in the yard. The rooster was a mean sort, and he attacked my sister, knocking her down. I recall turning to see her flat on her back in the mud while the rooster stood on her chest. Dad was nearby, and he shooed the bird away and hurried to comfort my sister, who was sobbing