Visiting Grace at FYBF today.
You’ve probably gleaned that the above isn’t a real rooster, it’s made of metal. This statue is in memory of Red, the handsome hen-rooster we had to take back to the farm. You see Red was meant to be female. We were assured he was a girl-chick when we bought those three tiny chicks prior to ‘the massacre’. Red’s story is diverting, if only to show what an
accomplished incompetent urban farmer I am. We picked up two day old chicks – black, white and red – from the free-range farm and gave them the imaginative mundane names of Blacky, Snowy and Red. They grew into gorgeous hens. Well, two did. But more about this later. It’s Wordless Wednesday and I’ve already written too many words. More pictures…
Our latest chicks are growing fast, losing their fluffy feathers, gaining sleek ones.
Identical twins Cherry and Merry will start laying in about a month. Meanwhile they’re exploring the garden…
The hens might look pretty but for an urban farmer my gardening skills are
This is how I envisage the vegie patch.
This is the reality.
However, The Orchard is
flourishing alive . A lemon and an orange tree are clinging to life after the lime tree dropped dead retired. But who needs a lime tree when you can buy that nice condensed lime juice in a packet and keep it in the fridge? It never dies.
Are you an urban or country gardener? Can you grow anything – herbs in a pot on the windowsill, tomatoes on the balcony? Any tips?
Linking up with Trish over at My Little Drummer Boys.