I leaned on the fence feeling utterly defeated. The factory hum of bees in the Linden blossoms, the loudest interruption of the peaceful afternoon, went completely unnoticed. I wasn’t taking in any of the pastoral beauty spread out before me, as I watched my little flock of hens in the yard, lying in the shade of the walnut trees, or under the hydrangeas. Occasionally one would stagger to her feet, and peck half-heartedly at the grain on the ground, before sinking unsteadily back onto her breast.
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Hi Ellie I found your chicken story … Now have no chickens but I am a tad lethargic. Maybe I better check under my tongue and see if I have a pepie …. You have been a busy girl ….
Good idea Len. Get Anne to peel it off for you! (Ouch!) 🙂