A year
Thanks to everyone for the positive feedback about the last entry. Our chickens thank you, too.
Some people have indicated that I may not know what I’m talking about when I said chickens are painfully stupid. To those people, I say:
Monday afternoon one of the chickens delivered a softer-than-normal poop while they were milling about me. I’d just been feeding them a couple of stale English muffins.
Normally, chicken poop is dark gray with a sort of white cap on the top. The dark part is the poop, the white part is the chicken equivalent of pee (but it’s not pee). Chickens only have one exit hole, you see.
That’s right, eggs come out that same hole.
But I digress.
Normal chicken poop is as I described, but it can have different colors and consistencies due to their diet. This particular poop was a light tan color, with no cap, and softer than a normal chicken poop is. Kind of like Haagen Dazs Dulce de Leche ice cream.
You’re welcome.
Because I was concerned that Robyn or myself might later step in that particular pile of nasty, I bent down and scooped up a little dirt to cover it.
Before I could, Frick raced over and plowed into the pile of shit beak first, scooping as much into his mouth as he could because he redefines “pig.” He’d seen my hand near the ground, and that’s all it took for him to come try to eat everything around without checking first.
He did have the sense to look confused for a second right after he swallowed it, and he didn’t eat a second bite, but still.
Dumb as rocks, I’m telling you.
As further proof, I offer: every day, without fail, at least one chicken can’t figure out how to get either in or out of the pen. Every freaking day.
Well now.
Go ahead and read that. I’ll wait.
Last August 15th, I wrote We can’t wait to find out if Green Acres really is the place to be.
It really is.
Wow! a year already??? The days do fly. I’ve been enjoying your daily ventures living the country life. You and Robyn are the sweetest, kindest, most concederate people. You are my kind of people…..big time animal lovers and so good with all animals even your chickens
Your treatment of your animals shows the true heart you both have…I love reading your journals and you have come along way from the city slicker you used to be 
ha,ha
I had no idea about the store bought eggs, so glad you educated this old lady…ha.ha Living in the country as I do, I think I’ll be buying me some farm fresh eggs
A year, wow! Happy Anniversary!
I found a tiny article on local farm fresh eggs just after you posted the last entry. You can find if you have farm-fresh eggs by you by entering your zip @ the following orgs… local harvest and eatwell guide. Thought of you immidately.
Wow. What a difference a year makes, eh? I forgot to ask in the last entry… is there any difference in nutritional value between your natural happy chicken eggs and the ones I still (guiltily) get at the supermarket? My guess is no, but with the difference in diet, I’m just not quite sure.
Congrats on your life. You and Robyn have certainly earned it. Happy is a good thing.
Aly, if you buy into the hype, eggs from chickens that eat grass are higher in omega-3 fatty acids and several other nutrients. Me, I don’t know for sure. I do know that our yolks are nearly orange instead of pale yellow, and that their taste is MUCH, um, richer, for lack of a better word. The shells of our eggs are also much thicker. I couldn’t tell you if that’s because they’re healthier or fresher.
Here’s what LocalHarvest says about pasture/grass raised meat and eggs.
I love your birdbrain stories.
What can I can, stupidity cracks me up.
heh.
Who knew chickens could be so entertaining! =)
That huge tree just ACHES to be climbed! If the front of your house had shutters (which it screams for) and a railing between the posts, it would be a replica of my grandmother’s home in Kentucky. Every. time. you post pictures of your house and yard, I am overwhelmed with memories from those days and I get all tingly and peaceful. I know my grandmother would never believe that when she sat on the porch swing, fan in one hand, dishcloth in the other and said to me,”Come watch the rain come in, baby…”, that that moment and the sound of her voice would stay with me for decades. Keep those pictures coming, Fred, I just absolutely LOVE the escape!
Wow, Fred. When I think back on all you and Robyn have accomplished in the last year, *I* get exhausted! I’ve loved every minute of following this journey with you. Happy cats, happy chickens, happy PEOPLE!! Can’t wait to see what the next year brings. Thanks for sharing.
How’s your wrist, by the way?
Congrats! My lawd, the time just flew.
Hi Fred, can you bug Robyn to put up a tour entry? And congrats!
Indeed it is Fred, and you and Robyn took to it like a duck to water. I have been with you every step of the way and look forward to many more years to come,if I live that long, [[I are really old]] Thanks for sharing your life in photos with us.
It seems like you were just talking about buying the place! Congrats on a year well done.
Have really enjoyed reading about the families transition to the country. So glad to hear you and Robyn so happy there.
Damn, a year already…proof once again that I’m getting old. I think I initially found you by googling a word and your site came up…
Because I didn’t say it last entry….TREE HUGGER!!!!
Actually my nana had chickens up in Maine when I was a kid..she had the brown eggs mostly….
I am however disappointed that there has not been a recent “nice cock” joke!!
Teri: I’m going to find out about my wrist today. It still hurts, just enough to be annoying.
Dave: Believe me, the minute I’m sure Frick is a rooster the cock jokes will resume. Surely you know my level of immaturity by now.
Wrist DX: Ganglion Cyst. Whaddya bet?
A year already! You and Robyn have done a wonderful job on the house and yard. I know ya’ll are very proud of your accomplishments. I just love reading you both.
Looking back at the picture above I gotta say the lawn looks really health. This heat wave we have been getting here in the South has been BRUTAL..my grass has almost the look it does in the winter when it goes brown…though I am sure thats not a Bermuda your running with there.
Chickens are like little eating robots.
Those trees are so beautiful - I can imagine that you take a nice calming breath when you pull into the drive every day.