OK, if you're one of those people (and I know you're out there) who don't like roosters, read no further. Or you're gonna barf. Because this is a post about roosters. Lots of them. A hunk-a-hunk-a-burnin'-love song to fowl. So stop now, or feathers will fly.
I think I got my first rooster statue when I still had my old kitchen. The cabinets were, shall we say, "rustic," and I felt they needed something to turn "rustic" into "French country." And once you get one rooster, it's a slippery slope. When my daughter's friend counted 21 roosters, I felt it was time to edit. Now, at any one time there are probably about 11 or 12 of the little devils roosting in the kitchen.