Write four lines of prose that have something to do with: chickens.
I drove out to Cawston this morning (about half an hour west of here) to pick up three frozen chickens and two dozen eggs from a farmer we know at the Penticton farmers market. It's a beautiful drive in the winter, one that I can appreciate when the roads are clear like they were today.
I'll have to go again before the snow is totally gone, and actually bring my camera with me to capture some of the views.
"The chickens are loose again," Henry called from the kitchen.
"Which way they headed?" Martha shouted back from the living room, her hands continuing to work at her latest knitting project.
"Looks like the elementary school again," Henry said as he turned his attention back to the newspaper.
"That ought to save us a couple feedings," Martha said after a quick glance at their grandfather clock confirmed that it was time for recess.