I’m not sure whether P. Allen Smith would articulate this in the same way, but I came to see his home and farm as a laboratory and living library bent on keeping alive healthy, happy living and growing practices from our history. I thank him for that.
The fertile hatching chicken eggs arrived intact, but the promise of the shipped eggs seems broken.
Bottom line is… I exposed three innocent lives to hazards on a “new” frontier. I took a risk at something novel that caused them to lose their lives. I effectively killed my chickens by exposing them to suburban life and people.
It’s chaos. Creeping jenny has crept right past the rock walls without so much as stopping to pay a toll. Grasses, that are normally tame, are wild and partying over pathways. Freedom lawn has had a free for all freely spreading into my perennial beds. Tomatoes and asters are living together. There are chickens in the strawberries. Fading coneflowers dive head first into cardinal flowers. Oh… the inhumanity.
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Of Facebook and Chickens
by Laura Mathews · April 24, 2012
The combination of Facebook and Chicken rearing has landed me in some interesting situations. Yes, I’ve taken a chicken on a professional appointment and I have been tagged as a rooster rescuer.