Aparently we haven’t cleaned enough poop with four kids, because we decided it was time for more chickens. Fifteen to be exact.
Charlie said I should title this column, “Riki and the Rooster,” but then all you readers of this column would understand right away how my cousin’s visit to the farm went a few weeks back and I wanted it to be a surprise.
White socks. Or at least what used to be white socks have become my Achilles’ heel. No matter the strength of my will power or the potency of my bleach, I can’t seem to get my boys’ socks to look like they’ve ever met water!
I’ve heard a lot about having chickens and roosters and most of it’s been good. Healthy, fresh eggs. Authentic farm-like sounds coming from the backyard. How the birds eat insects and chew on brush areas. To me it all sounded delightful and I could hardly wait to get some. I […]
I have lived in the “city” (Mt. Vernon proper) all my life — with the exception of college. Since my husband and I purchased a farm, I’ve been experiencing a little culture shock. Seems this city girl has a lot to learn!