Saturday, July 24, 2010


By the way, Captain Jack is gone.
Captain Jack
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.

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