For the past several months life has felt drab, dull, uninspired . . . honestly just not very fun. Today, unexpectedly, my spirits have been slightly lifted albeit from a rather humble meeting with . . . chickens. The living, clucking, pecking kind that offer eggs in exchange for food scraps (now there’s a good a deal).
Pedaling our bikes to a in our Sellwood neighborhood Alistair and I met farm manager Nikki. As we were nearing the end of our riverhouse tour and preparing to mount our bikes I stopped to admire Buffy and her girlfriend; two beautiful full grown fowl. “Ever since I was a little girl I’ve always wanted to raise chickens” I sighed and Nikki smiled . . . you just never now when you’re going to meet a kindred spirit.
We decided to buy a with riverhouse farm, exchange mutually supportive expertise’s and hand raise four baby chicks for three months, just old enough to live on the farm. I just got a whole lot more popular with my grandkids.
With the promise of fresh produce in the belly and warm-fuzzies in the hand, whose spirit wouldn’t rise?
Good thing she doesn’t raise goats.