Do you remember this?
I do. Victor and I worked our rear-ends off to make a protected area for our little hens.
Don't you know that now as many as five of them at one time hop out (flapping, half climbing up the fence) at will and peck around the yard.
Ahem . . . why did we bother?!
They were hopping out so frequently, and so many of them, that one late afternoon Benjamin and I let them all out figuring they'd stay close to home and come home easily at dusk. Nope. Those hens started trekking deep into the woods like a group of mountaineers beginning a expedition to climb Mount Washington. We had to pull out the stale hot dog buns and have Benjamin and Ripley coral them back towards the yard like sheep dogs -- luring them with crumbs. Bad hens.
To top it all off . . . we have no eggs yet. This is the week they start to lay. We are waiting.
Not too patiently.
Victor is already starting to talk about soup . . . and I don't mean egg drop.
We do have pole beans, harriot verts, dried beans, parsley and tons of arugula though!