Though we’ve been dislocated from our country home for nearly a month now, there are still a few pleasures I enjoy that remind me of home. Every morning I get up and go take care of and train Stoney and Dancer. It’s wonderful being able to go to the barn every day and enjoy a little bit of nature and solitude. But before I even roll out of bed, my alarm clock sounds:
Lots of places are now allowing some rural habits to intertwine with city living. Hosts of major cities have vast community gardens and allow laying hens and beehives within their limits. Even our goats, Alice and Tawny went to live in someone’s fenced backyard
in Des Moines. If I was ever forced to live in the city limits again, I would set up a mini-farm, complete with bees, milk goats, laying hens and a vast garden in a heartbeat.
The backyard flock is eclectic–everything from brown leghorns to barred rocks to australorps and each girl has a name, the ones like “Taco” and “Punzle” thanks to the grandkids. Though they’re spoiled hens, they still act like regular old farm chickens.
Jack might not enjoy waking up to a clucking hen sitting in the nesting box, but it makes my mornings happier.