As are his big red cronies who also happened to be boy chickens.
Damn Tract*r Supply and their supposed pullet bin.
The mean buggers were pecking my sweet little hens, not to mention eating my green tomatoes, and trampling my onions.
One lucky rooster will get to play the stud to a farmyard full of hens. The other three will make some farmer a yummy chicken dinner. We're left with three little hens who are much more relaxed now that the fellas are gone. And I have my garden back to myself. Unfortunately, the weeds didn't realize I didn't want to share with them either. After a 3 hr stint weeding, seeding, and tackling the tomato forest, I sit here slathered in aloe. Sunscreen is always a good plan if you'll be wearing a tanktop and standing in the sun for hours.
That's me, the blog slacker. Not sure if that's the correct terminology, but calling myself blacker didn't sound very PC, so slogger it is. I've been working a crap load of over time the last 2 weeks which is why I haven't been around much. Working 65 hrs a week is tiring and leaves little time for blog updates.
Between shifts, I managed to take the little peeps to the sprayground. That's right, the sprayground.
Tate and her best buddy Emma
I like how Tess had to hang on for dear life in this one. Then cackled like a banshee at the bottom, of course.
See what a bright and sunny day it was?
Right before the skies darkened, the thunder clapped, and the heavens opened up on us.
I got drenched just getting the kids into the car.