Thinking of Chickens

I went to visit a flock of chickens today, probably more than thirty of them, all colors and sizes. They were gently pecking away at the bugs in the grass as they quietly cackle-purred the way chickens do, perhaps celebrating their good fortune at being truly free range birds under large oaks and citrus trees. Several of them were truly beautiful like magnificent parrots. Their owner showed me their night time coop, and some of the lovely multi-colored eggs they laid. I was entranced.
This idea of keeping chickens came to me in the midst of a time when I have been distraught about my child's crumbling marriage. There is really no connection, except that I am searching for some new direction, something physical I must attend to beyond the garden and my art work. Keeping chickens would require me to be here in this place I love so much! "Oh, I can't possibly go here or there or attend the dinner, but I have to tend to the flock, thank you very much!"
I think, romantically, about having my three year old grandson help with this project. We now see a lot more of him, and he is often here on weekends.
Keeping chickens is a really bad idea for me, I know this, I would hate to kill them, I would have to get people to feed and water them when I am away.
What this is about is the 'away' part. I am struggling with having two homes. My real home is here in the country and I yearn to be able to really live here full-time. But, for now, we can't. At least once a week, usually more than that, both of us or one of us must do that horrid high speed (or stuck in traffic) commute of an hour and a half to go to our other 'home', an urban launching point for our civic responsibilities, and the chance to see friends and family we care about. We spend way too much time closing and opening houses.
Our house there, spare and stylish, has been fraught with problems for two years. It is never easy being there. The place is quite new, looks perfect and pristine, but there is always some problem with windows, plumbing, termites, leaks, a/c or whatever. I dread going there, and count the minutes until I can go home to our place in the remote Green Swamp where the owls call , the vegetables are ready from the garden, and the wildness envelopes me.
Something's got to give. So I think impractically of keeping chickens. Just maybe, it could keep me sane.