Living in the country I have loved having chickens. At first the poultry was for our daughter when only 8 or 9 to help develop her entrepeneurial skills with her little egg business. She is all grown -up now. Next the poultry was for our boys to have a 4-H project. They are all grown-up now too. Still I have hens. No more roosters who are way too possessive of every blade of grass, every doorway they encounter, not to forget every hen. It has been years since the kids have lived here but yet 6 hens get treated quite royally here to this day; good feed, tasty veggie scraps from the kitchen, a snug winter coop in the barn, and a luxurious summer hen-house. The result is eggs. Eggs, eggs, eggs. Everytime I open my refrigerator I see that basket of eggs which always gives me a sense of security. Silly, but true. Sometimes the basket is brimming over, sometimes nearly empty, but never to this day compeletly empty! The eggs are lovely, fresh, healthy, and reliable. Should the roads clug up with snow, the cars not start, the world stop, prices sky rocket, we will have hens and be secure knowing we have eggs to boil, bake, fry, poach, scramble. You get the idea!