Not about chickens. At all.
Authenticity is hard. We live in a world where we are taught that appropriate response to “How are you?” is “I’m fine and you?” I’m rarely fine. I’m frequently elated, triumphant, frustrated, rushed, anxious, excited, grumpy, or sad, or any combination of the above. I can’t remember the last time, “fine” was a
The Crippled Chicken Cafe
I was walking around the get the lad out of the car when I first noticed the feathers. There were just a few, but they were red with white at the base, deep feathers, and it wasn’t molting season. I made a mental note to check on the girls as soon as I could get
The Simple Chicken
I knew a few things about myself before we started homesteading. I mean I recognized a few aspects of my personality that would be obstacles to traditional homesteading. I knew that I didn’t exactly have a green thumb. I knew that I would have to develop greater upper body strength to chop wood, and I
Starting out
Once upon a time, we thought we were homesteaders. For me, that word always brings one of two images to mind: the classic old farmhouse with the el connecting to the barn surrounded by gardens, fields, and outbuildings stretching up toward the woodline, or acres of trees with a dirt drive leading to a