Chickens have the right of way

From one extreme to the other. Today we've got hot wind coming through the lounge room window.  The green tinge that the front lawn took on after the downpour is already starting to fade.  Our indoor cat remains upstairs as usual.  Max considers downstairs inappropriate most of the time, and I'm entirely to blame for subjecting him to too many episodes of Downton Abbey.  He already had a well developed sense of entitlement and now considers me his very own Carson.  Minnie has flaked it in the shade of the verandah and will only manage a few steps before a dramatic fall to the floor again for full effect.  And the chickens sit with their respective families under the shade of the plum trees.  Our driveway has now become a major road hazard with a chicken fatality on the weekend.   I wasn't aware of it until Mrs Chicken (pictured) came running up to me in the driveway and then went and pointed at the flattened chick in the drive.  I felt bad. I tried to explain it wasn't me that did it but she clearly wasn't interested in hearing my side of the story.  It's become increasingly difficult to reverse our cars out as the families of hens run towards us thinking we are all day, every day food vending machines.  I'm reluctant to install a lolly pop man and I don't think designated walkways would help.  I am attempting to get them to feed with the main pack but unfortunately adult chickens don't possess 'it takes a village to raise a child' mentality and peck the smaller ones to get them out of the way of food.   I'm looking forward to them getting a little bigger so we can have our driveway back, and hopefully they can go to traffic school, or something.