So Watiets was distracted by a small visitor.
Turned out to be a rather demanding little thing, needed to be fed many worms,
the whole family was digging in the garden to satisfy her needs.
We (re)named her Piep, such a clever chick saying her own name all the time.

And the best thing? I got to be the mother hen, having a sleeping little chick in my woolen cardy every evening.
Now Piep returned to her owners and we are left with a silent house, a muddy garden full of holes and a,
to be frank, bit of a broken heart.
There is our first 2021 resolution: cuddle more chicks.

walk like a chick
sleep like a chick
drawing the chick


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