If you’re going to sleep next to someone, make sure it’s your hero.

If you’re going to sleep next to someone, make sure it’s your hero.
Because we live on a sunny piece of property only 35.57° north, we have access to homegrown food every day of the year.
I spent much of September watching the hummingbirds fight over sugar water. What a waste of energy, I thought.
“Chicken TV is keeping me sane,” she says, as we soak in that timeless world, mesmerized by their languid pecking and the occasional drop of a leaf.
“Notice anything different about this one?” Shelley asks, holding a newly-feathered chicken with both hands. It’s an Australorp, she tells me.