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Laura's avatar

Chickens have “personalities,” their eggs are slightly different enough so I can tell who is laying. They can be extremely funny — but they need to be tended whenever you leave town, by someone able to get a dawdler into the coop and deal with equipment failing in the winter. There is a lot of death. Hawks, raccoons, skunks, foxes want to eat them. Ours pecked to death a crippled song bird and devour dead mice who drown in their water bucket. A broody hen went on a rampage and pecked two other hens to death during the night. They get sick fast with the runs and can die. Changing their bedding, a mixture of new and old poo, poo dust, dander, and dust isn’t my favorite. But my husband loves the moments of peace in the evening, coaxing them with mealworms, picking one up and walking around, listening to them vocalize as they diligently scratch for bugs. It’s being part of a web of life and behaviors that isn’t human and mostly untamed and undirected. To hang out with a descendant of the dinosaurs is something else.

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Charlotte Hand Greeson's avatar

Yes, please, a thread prompt on regional food! I'm particularly interested (as always) at the connection between the food and the historic activities and people that created the food.

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