She continued her safety lecture to me as she scurried back out into the kitchen. As she walked into the kitchen she glanced into a mirror and gasped....“Shit!” she said and wheeled around towards the dining room table. She then did something that changed my life forever. She took the purse in her hand and banged it onto the chair that my feet were under and started digging around in it. To do this she had bent at the waist in order to see inside the purse. This action caused the top of her. We couldn't just keep them indoors all the time. We cobbled together a couple chicken runs to let them peck and forage. Every season I'd move the gate to swap runs, letting the alternate one recover. A little water and scattered chicken shit brought the greenery right up. With just a few hens it didn't take too much grain to keep us in fresh eggs. I shelled out the money for another cheap box trailer. We got it filled with bags of chicken feed and crushed clam shells. We damned near busted the. More

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