My Girl, Phyllis

Happy New Year from Phyllis! She's always got her party hat on!

Acrylic
Original not available...I'm keeping this one.

13"x10" on wood

Prints available on request.

(Printed image may be slightly cropped for printing purposes.)

My original paintings are available in my online gallery.

Let me know if you're interested in prints of my paintings.

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Who's a Big Chicken?

So the other night I felt like a big chicken.

The little guy and I were at the gym and he really, really wanted me to work on my vertical jump. Well, I'm barely five feet tall and my legs were not gifted with length...so when he put the platform in front of me and said, "Jump!" Well...I couldn't. Every fiber of my being said, "Nope!"

There was simply no forcing me to do it. And then right after I felt like a big chicken I remembered that chickens are AWESOME. So I decided to feel awesome instead.

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To the Side

Every night I tuck my chickens in. This entails going to their coop and doing a head count. And by head count I mean that I actually reach in and give all six girls a little love. And every night Fuzzy, our littlest one, refuses to face me. The trouble for her is that I still totally know she's looking right at me. Eyes-on-the-sides-of-your head problems.

Chicken love....

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Fuzzy Flitting

We love all of our chickens. We really do. They're adorable, they give us eggs, they eat bugs...they're awesome. Well, all but one of them lays eggs, anyway. One chicken, our sweet Fuzzy, does not.

Fuzzy is our little Silkie. She's smaller than the other chickens. She lay one egg...one!...several months ago. Her little beak is crooked and the top doesn't line up with the bottom. Her feathers came in all scraggly and that little one can't even consider trying to fly. And with all that she's decidedly our  most adorable chicken by far.

I sat in the chicken yard taking in Fuzzy and all her cute glory. I started to sketch her and she flitted here and flitted there. That girl flitted everywhere.

So I present Fuzzy, fabulously flitting of course!

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So, Why did the Chicken Cross the Road?

We've had chicken problems lately. Escaping chickens, that is.

More times than not, lately, I've arrived home to find several of our chickens hanging out in the front yard. This means they got over the fence in their chicken run and then over another fence to the front yard. While it's all fun and games for my chickens, this chicken mama was starting to fear for their safety...especially when the little guy and I were leaving on an errand and had to stop a bit down from our house because one of our chickens was, yes, crossing the road. So after breaking quite a sweat rounding her back home, completing our errand, and getting home only to find chickens out again, I decided we had to do something.

On the scene came google and "chicken wing clipping". After I sorted through a number of articles on cooking chickens, I found what I was looking for. And twenty minutes later our birds with the flight risk each had a lovely one-sided trim. Take that, girls!


So, if you're wondering why the chicken crossed the road...well, it's just like the joke always ended...to get to the other side.


P.S. While this painting is of Phyllis, she is one of two chickens who did not receive the trim. My favorite girl would never want to run far from home.

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Tricky Chicks

My chickens, they're jokesters.


"Gasp! She's dead!" I go through the gate with sadness filling my heart and walk over to check on my chicken who is on her side, legs splayed, eyes closed...surely dead as dead can be.


And every time they jump up and scamper off.

Who knew chickens played possum?

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Phyllis Made the Graffiti Wall!

Phyllis has joined my graffiti wall and she's doing a little jig in celebration. And of course she's considering eating those flowers because that's how she rolls. Love my girl and my graffiti wall...such fun to watch them both grow.

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Where the Grass is Greener

Our chicken, Barry, has made a grand discovery. She prefers to be in the part of our back yard that is not the chicken run. She has managed to verify that the grass truly is greener on the other side of the fence. Know what the best part is? That girl, when she decides that the "grass" in the chicken yard is "greener" because that is where all her peeps are, is able to get right back over the fence to join them.

Chicken love!

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I Only have Eyes for Worms

A shift has occurred in the chicken space continuum.

It used to be that I'd walk in our chicken yard and only Phyllis would come-a-runnin'. Well now Barry, Maury, and Ernie come-a-runnin', too.

"What happened?" you ask.

Well, I'll tell ya what happened.


I started lifting some of the pavers we have out in their yard and exposing the fabulous delicacy that earthworms are. I did this a few times over several days and now I'm officially the Worm Lady in their sweet little beady chicken eyes. I swear all they see is a big earthworm in tennies.


I'm good with that. I'm feeling' that chicken love.

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Phyllis Goes to School!

Phyllis is growing up. She went to school today for the first time ever. She put on her backpack, packed her lunch, and went to her classroom. OK, so she didn't exactly do all that, but she did go to school with me today. And Barry went to school with us, too.

I was Farmer Parsons today. I donned my overalls, put my hair in pigtails, gathered up Phyllis and Barry, and headed up to school. Barry was the first out of the carrier. She was wonderful, delightful, and a tad nervous. Phyllis came out next. And that girl calmly sat on my lap for close to thirty minutes while I talked about chickens and let more than thirty four-year-olds take turns petting her. She was in chicken heaven!

Pretty sure that when I get up in the morning Phyllis will be dressed and ready to go with me.

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Baby Phyllis

My sweet chicken, Phyllis, was really sick a couple of weeks ago. Really sick.  I actually thought one night when I went to bed that by morning she'd be gone. But she's fine now, thankfully.

I was thinking about how she was when she was really sick and, by golly, that girl of mine was seriously acting like a baby. She wanted to be held constantly. She made a lot of racket. She pooped and threw up on me. She refused to go to sleep when I wanted her to. And, gosh, did that girl ever drool a lot. I mean some serious drool.

When I was giving her a snuggle the other day I kept thinking about what she must have looked like as a baby. I mean that girl of mine just had to be adorable. There is no doubt. So I had to try to paint a baby Phyllis. I had to! I couldn't help myself.

I love my girl!

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Long Strands

I learn something new from my chickens every day. For instance, I knew they liked greens...green bean tips, bits of lettuce, etc. But what I didn't know is how they eat what is now their favorite treat, long strands of grass that I toss into their yard.

So, imagine any kid (and some adults) eating a strand of spaghetti. They put the end in their mouth and suck it in till it disappears. Well, this is what chickens do with long strands of grass. They grab it with their beaks and suck, or whatever it is that chickens do, it all the way in until it disappears. Now, unlike kids (and hopefully all adults), chickens are also apt to steal the strand from a pal, pull it out of their beak, and then eat it themselves. This is odd in my book, but I've seen it so many times that it must just be a chickeny thing to do.

I don't think I'll ever look at grass and spaghetti the same way again.

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Runaway Chicken

I was watching one of those "make you cry" videos about a homeless dog who had been rescued. And yes, it made me cry. And then I had to go hug my dogs...and my cats...and my chickens. Except when I went out to hug my chickens I saw that Barry (my husband gave our hens boy names, that's for another blog) was on the outside of the fence. She had literally flown the coop.

So I ran around the house and beside our neighbor's house and attempted to get Barry. In the process I startled my neighbor who then startled me when he opened his window and asked if I was a prowler. Then nice guy that he is, he came out and tried to help me round up Barry...but Barry had other plans and ran right at my neighbor who laughingly declared that he, himself, was a chicken and went back into his house.

Barry ran around the front of my house and then to my carport. I dashed in the house and woke up my little guy to help me round up our runaway. When we went out Barry was nowhere to be found. We looked everywhere. And then I saw our cat staring and I followed his gaze. There was Barry. My little guy and I got the gates to the back yard open, herded Barry into the backyard and into the chicken run.

Whew! She owes us an omelette!

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Disco Fever

Continuing my Phyllis, the wonder chicken, theme...

Each evening after sunset we close the chickens in their coop for the night. They always appear to tuck themselves into their nesting boxes and prepare to snuggle into sleepyland. But the more I think about it, I'm starting to suspect that my girl, Phyllis, has quite the night life. I'm thinking that girl of mine waits till she hears us close the back door, sneaks out of the coop, and dances under the stars.

Girl's got disco fever!

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Butterfly Kisses

Continuing my Phyllis, the wonder chicken, theme...

I imagine while I'm not home that butterflies by the gazillions stop by for the privilege and bliss of hanging out on my girl's head plume and giving her some love. It's fabulous up there. Soft, comfy, gets ya where you're going...but Phyllis, while quite kind to her peeps (get it?) and us, has her share of barbaric traits as well. It's simply part of being a chicken. If you're little and wander by you're fair game for good eatin'. So while these lovely butterflies think they're completing Phyllis' fabulous look, my girl is likely licking her chops in sweet anticipation.

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Out on the Town

Continuing my Phyllis, the wonder chicken, theme...

Certainly Phyllis does not stay in the chicken yard all day long. No way. She's way too sophisticated for such things. No, I'm quite sure that my wonder girl puts a bow in her hair, grabs her purse, and heads out to do some shopping. Now Phyllis is a practical girl, of course, so that amazing chicken of mine is surely hitting all the best thrift stores South Austin has to offer.

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Secret Admirer

Continuing my Phyllis, the wonder chicken, theme...

I often see pigeons and small doves in the chicken yard. Now while they're likely there to take advantage of the plentiful feed, I have a suspicion that my girl, Phyllis, has a number of secret admirers. I mean, what's not to love? The girl is awesome!

I get it, wee little birds, I get it.

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My Phyllis

I hang out with my best girl, Phyllis, a lot. She's a fabulous Polish chicken for those of you who don't know. And while I hang out with her I can't help but imaging all of the adventures she has while I'm not at home. So...I decided to spend some time coming up with little things she might be up to and how she goofily spends her day.

And just to be difficult, I'm starting with a non-example. What I'm I quite sure that she's not doing while I'm at work?

Well, I'm quite sure she's not just sitting around watching flowers grow. Nope, that girl of mine is busy, busy, busy, of that there is no doubt.

Tune in for more!

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One of the Flock

I love feathers. For years I've picked them up and saved ones I've found laying about. I especially love the ones that are "messed up" because that tells a story of adventure. And, lucky for me, my chickens are super patient and let me endlessly pet them. I think I have a serious case of feather envy.

Now don't get me wrong. I have no urge to fly or have way-too-close encounters with neighborhood cats. But since I won't be sprouting a feather here and there, I took it upon myself to fix that problem.

My first non-floral henna...a tad shaky as the henna had thickened and I had to squeeze the cone a little harder, but it'll do. I'm one of the flock now.

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Backyard Bliss

I was out in the backyard. The sun was shining. There was a slight breeze. I'd just hung laundry to dry. Phyllis, my wonder chicken, was being adorable. The universe was clearly sending me a message.

What was that message? Well, to chill out, put on a podcast, and paint, of course!

Backyard bliss....

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