I haven’t even talked about the garden we built last year (well, Keith and his brother built!) or the greenhouse we bought and started to install in the backyard this Winter. I’m stuck on the whole frikkin chicken issue. (Yes, it was as fun to write as it is to say!)

So, here’s the latest. Keith went to talk to Red. I love that I live in a town where the building inspector is known by his first name and, I think/hope, a nickname at that, and asked Red about chickens. Here’s the lowdown. There is NO town ordinance on owning Roosters. There is a rule about owning 4 animals. It didn’t say what kind of animals, just 4. So, Red suggested that we keep the flock (ooh, we don’t even have a coop yet and I’m talking “flock” now! Pick on me all you want, I’m excited about the idea) to 4 or under. The court case (mentioned in “Which came first, the rooster or the neighbor” https://daisypatch.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?action=edit&post=10 ) may cause ordinance to change, but not likely. So, 4 it is.

Our neighbor has chickens. I used to hear the roosters. Well, I think there are more than 1, I saw them fighting in the driveway this Summer, but who knows if they are both still there  with all the dogs, coyote, fishercats, fox, etc., around. I need to remember to ask Keith if he’s heard the roosters lately. Anyway, we didn’t call the town to complain about the noise. We had a party once and our friends ended up staking tents in the backyard to crash. They all complained about the roosters waking them up early the next morning. I  think the sun would have done it anyway and, quite honestly, we served enough beer the night before (hence the necessity for our friends to erect aforementioned tents), that the sound of the grass growing would have caused complaints the next morning. We made breakfast, I think my scones and some bacon slowed the complaints considerably. What is better than carbs and bacon for a hangover? Nothing I say, nothing.

Did I digress? No, still on chickens. So, if our neighbor has them, I suspect it shouldn’t be a problem for us to have them since, well, who’s gonna complain? Still dreaming of that ruffled apron mentioned in the last post, (yes, now the apron is ruffled) nestling warm eggs fresh from the roost as I carry them inside to make a souffle’.

Is this dream of a rural homestead be just that – a dream? I shudder to think that the picture in my head of me in my Crocs and jeans tucking blue specked eggs into a folded apron as cute little chickens coo around my feet will actually be me, still in pumps and suit from my day job, holding the little peckers at bay with one foot while shoving crap-covered eggs into my Coach handbag because I forgot the damned apron in the house.

We shall see. In the meanwhile, we’ll watch the rooster debate with one eye while poring over seed catalogs with the other.

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