freer ranging chickens

Narfie7, I thought of you when I saw this one . . . ~ Linne

big house, little prairie

I am fairly certain, over the seemingly short time of this blog’s existence, that it has become quite apparent that I am a recovering Type A personality. I fight the need to have everything “just so” on a daily basis. I tended to spend hours mapping out any given action, as well as all its possible outcomes. Up until becoming the mother of two (because really, let’s be honest, now it’s just about surviving the day) I was notorious for being over prepared. “Oh, it couldn’t have been that bad” you say? Well here’s an example, our wedding had an itinerary, which was broken down by the hour for the entire day, so everyone knew where they were suppose to be and when. Kevin also had a list of all the luggage and other bits he was supposed to deliver to the hotel we would be staying in the night…

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4 thoughts on “freer ranging chickens

  1. They don’t tell you that you will be up to your armpits in chook poo and that the hens will hide their eggs on the roof and the rooster will warn the hens when you are getting close so that they will lie low and that chooks were sent here to try the best of us 😉

    • Maybe you will all need to fence off the house . . . I remember friends putting their Christmas tree in the playpen so their toddlers couldn’t pull it over again. Same idea. I think I would need at least a small sitting space that was poo-free 😉

      Funny, all the things no-one tells us, eh?

      • Steve only gets grumpy when he forgets to wipe his feet on the outside mat after walking out in the yard. Earl keeps the inside yard clear as if a chook set foot inside it wouldn’t have the capacity to poop any more ;). It’s a fine line between getting eggs and putting up with regular garden scratching up. I don’t care about the poop as it’s all fertiliser to be honest but the scratching up the moist soil from around the base of trees and shrubs is the most destructive thing that they do. I know that I have to lug rocks to protect them but 4 acres of rock lugging has knobs on! 😉

      • Well, I’d be grumpy, too. And good for Earl. I think he’s my favourite (today lol). Too bad you don’t have a meadow or two that could be fenced and then the chooks let free there. Maybe you need to buy that cute place next door . . . I never had chooks long enough to see the destructive possibilities. Weasels and hawks dined on ours. Good luck with the rock-hauling. You will soon be the strongest woman in Tassie! Wish I could offer to help, but that stargate of mine still eludes me . . .

Thanks for stopping by my blog! I look forward to reading your comments. ~ Linne

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