So my grand scheme of urban farming has {kind of} bitten me in the foot.
Literally.
This morning, one of the chickens walked right up to me and pecked my toe.
And it hurt.
And I'm pretty sure it's the one that is a rooster.
But I'm waiting for him to crow so that I can know for sure.
You know. I don't want to ship him off unless he "earns" that privilege.
(Keep biting me, you stupid chicken, and you will get a one way ticket...I promise.)
Our veggies were awesome.
We're trying to find more space to plant more. I LOVED having lettuce.
That was probably the best part of the whole garden.
And I NEED more.
But the tomatoes have EXPLODED!
The bush is flipping huge.
Bigger then I have ever seen.
Fun. {Just watch out for itty bitty teeny snails. Gag}
The chickens are still a money sucker.
No eggs yet.
Seriously. Not. One. Single. Egg.
They need to start pulling their weight around here.
Its a big family.
Everyone has to chip in.
I'd appreciate more {any} eggs....and less poop.
M'kay?
And *maybe* stay off my patio furniture....
(BBQ chicken anyone???)
What I don't get is how some people say their chickens won't let them near. (Lucky people)
Ours are C-O-N-S-T-A-N-T-L-Y trying to get in.
I'm thinking its *maybe* because they are pretty used to being held.
Just maybe...
Christmas 2023
10 months ago
No comments:
Post a Comment