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.
Nineteen days into voluntary isolation, I reach to the back of the freezer for some ginger and discover two bags of sweet pepper, one green, and one red. It’s Christmas! Like many trapped in this stagnant lull, I have put on some weight. The more I focus on making do, the faster I eat down […]