Good to be Home

I was off and running again and, at last, have returned home. I don’t think the girls remember me. There’s no “Hi, how are ya’s,” or “About time you woke up! We’re starving out here,” when I open the back door in the morning. They pretty much ignore me and go about their business. They are still happy when I bring them grazing materials, however.

The yard had three weeks growth by the time I found a spare hour to mow. I recently bought another plug-in electric mower and discovered it works best with the bagger attachment in place, which is great for the chickens, because I dump all the grass clipping in their yard. I was surprised to notice they prefer chopped up grass over the long grass I typically harvest for them. The more greens they eat, the richer and darker yellow the yolks.

Chickens are natural grazers with a side of bugs. I’m not sure where the whole-“feed them grain” idea came about. I should research that. I’m guessing it started when the chicken industry began. Throwing out a little scratch so they come running when they see you and stick closer to home is different from having a main diet of grains.

It’s good to be home again tending to the girls and my garden.

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