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...
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