With the recent warmth, last week we set a couple of the Barred Plymouth Rocks onto the yard. They mostly stuck close to whomever was standing nearby, but they did venture around a bit.
Here are the Cornish Cross gathered around the feeding bin. They are creating art, because in the next week, we will supposedly be creating art out of them. Food. But isn't food art quite often?
Tough to say what it'll be like to butcher these guys. I'm sure I'll have some tales. There are only 14 now, because one of the chickens was randomly almost dead yesterday, so he had to be put out of his misery early and won't even have the joy of being eaten. Everybody else seems fine, so we aren't suspecting disease.
1 comment:
Melody was probably sending that chicken bad thoughts clear from Sequim!
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