So today we take advantage of our first-of-the-season 70+ degree weather and try to get caught up on weeding. And Forrest says, out of seemingly nowhere, "Maybe just one chicken. Well, maybe two..."
Huh?
We've been around other people's chickens recently. Including my life-long friend Laurel's, who sent us home from Fall City yesterday with a half-dozen fresh eggs, and a handful of colorful birds we met about a mile north of us. Their digging and scratching apparently caught his eye. They'll eat just about anything - and dig up anything else while looking for bugs and worms.
"We'd just have to put foot-high fences anything we didn't want them to eat."
Or destroy... Oh - and we'd have to build a chicken coop (and find a place for one), and generally do all the things that must be done if chickens are to share the homestead. We have a hard enough time managing cats.
No chickens. While chickens are appealing for many good reasons - eggs, weeding, fertilizer - just getting ready for chickens would take more work than digging the weeds ourselves. Besides, despite my complaints, weeding is actually a pretty good workout. Noting how my body feels right now, I have muscles that I'm fairly unfamiliar with!
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