A Dozen Chicks in the Hot Tub?!

Chirp chirp chirp

Chirp chirp chirp

Well, that seemed to get your attention, you dirty birdy! In our quest to be like Tom and Barbara from the 70’s British sitcom, The Good Life, we got ourselves a dozen chickens the other day. We hope that, unlike the chickens we had in San Diego who didn’t lay very much, these girls will supply us with enough eggs to satisfy our growing egg habit (and have a few left over for the neighbors and maybe to sell by the road). They’re still young and fuzzy—it’ll be a few more months until they’re ready to lay eggs. But for now, they’ll be kept warm by the warming lamp until we have their coop and run ready.

I learned a very valuable lesson in planning this week, when we harvested a ridiculous amount of spinach and lettuce. I understand why real farmers plant things in rows now; my haphazard tossing of seeds within a designated area led to confusion as the plants were growing (every day was a game of “plant I planted or unwelcomed guest?”) and it made it more difficult to harvest the crops when they were ready. This time, when I was ready for the next round of seeds, I planted them in rows.

No, dear, those aren't for eating.

No, dear, those aren’t for eating.

Take-home gardening tip: Always plant things in rows; it makes the harvest less of a clusterfudge. 

My son used his brand new pint-sized wheelbarrow to help carry the harvest to the house. Random sticks and his cars keep the harvest company as he pushed it across the courtyard. While he was certainly stoked on carrying the plants to the house, it was another story when it came to eating them for dinner. He’ll only eat greens when they’re blended into a smoothie or when someone else is eating them and he wants them. When they’re on his plate in front of him, he’ll pick them up and drop them on the floor. There’s still time to convert him.

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