A friend of ours celebrated his 80th birthday today. His finance, of ten years, had a surprise party for him....yes, I agree, it was risky.

This friend raises chickens. And sells eggs. All in a residential area.

One of the toasts today was given by the local sheriff. His department has come to know my friend well since they have often been called by locals to complain that the rooster is waking them up at 4 AM and earlier.

My husband has breakfast with a group of men on Wednesdays. Our 80-year old friend is part of this group. When the staff at Cracker Barrel sees the gang enter that morning they begin gathering the scraps of food from diner's plates, placing them in a bag for my friend to take home to his chickens. Where some people, like me for example, might be embarrassed to collect left-overs from other restaurant patrons, our friend happily collects from table to table, explaining the while that his chickens will eat well that day.

What do you get an 80-year-old as a birthday gift? What else? Fifty pounds of chicken feed.

And that's what I'm thinking about (and also that the cake was delicious).

For those of you who emailed me regarding the chicken cameras in Massachusetts, the address is hencam.com.