My Life of Deprivation

I still don’t have chickens. Mr. G is trying with all his might to keep me deprived of fresh organic eggs and the magical chicken shit that will make my canna grow. Recently the kids and I listened to an interview on NPR with a fellow who raised fancy chickens with blue skin. Mr. G is also firmly committed to making our children miserable and deprived. People have fancy chickens. We have none. We looked at two houses on Saturday. First there was the one I could have lived in …

The Birthday List

My husband and parents keep asking me what I want for my birthday. I’d like to play tennis or maybe take a hike. I have everything I ever wanted, so I don’t really want any gifts. Well, there is one thing. I want chickens. I want backyard chickens for eggs and for fun. I’d love to have fresh eggs every day, and nothing feeds your flowers quite like chicken poop. My dream is to get the Araucana chicks that are a day old from McMurray along with a nice hutch …