I’m about to get chickens. The fully grown kind. Yes, it’s nearly freezing cold outside but don’t worry, these are full grown hens and not little baby chicks. However, it’s my first time raising chickens for eggs and I’m a little nervous!
We ordered a chicken coop kit and it was delivered today. The instructions look fairly easy to follow but who knows? Sometimes there’s a screw loose *wink*
Anyway, once we get it put together we can pick up the hens. Will they lay? Who knows. It not, I suppose they’ll end up in the soup pot! Another new adventure waiting to happen!
In the meantime, I can’t help thinking about an erotic romance series featuring the unsung heroes of America – its farmers. My husband actually was a market gardener for several years, along with the man who’s gifting us the chickens – before he high-tails it back to the U.K. by the way – and he still does garden for us organically. So we have lots of lots of veg to feed our chickens. Talk about high quality food it’s the best!
So why not reward your local farmer with a saucy wink, a blow job or even a quickie in the hay? After all, these fellows (and in some cases, gals!) work hard for what they produce. Like bees, without farmers we don’t eat. They ought to be treated like royalty IMO!
Maybe the farmer will become the new vampire. Instead of drinking blood, he’ll hand out potatoes, onions and kale. In a post-apocalyptic society, he’d be the king and everyone would want what he had. Women would line up for miles around. They’d all coo and flirt with him for a shot at that carrot. ‘Cause you know he can grow it big!
Yeah, move over cowboys, it’s time for the farmer to get the action he (or she) deserves!