Thank God the people we invited decided they couldn't come.
Oh well. At least I am morally certain they aren't going to escape again.
A couple moves from the big city to the countryside and starts a small farm...wait, you've heard this premise before? What? Trite? Hackneyed? But, I have goats. Really cute pictures of tiny baby goats. And cheesemaking recipes. We slaughter our own pigs and cure our own bacon! Well, that's in the master plan, anyway. Just read it, you'll see.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Chicken Pox
A pox on those filthy chickens! They were bad to the very end. I boiled the hell out of them for hours (along with onions, carrots, and various spices, of course) and yet they remained inedibly tough and stringy. Worse than the wild rabbit Ivory caught that one time. I don't know what we did wrong. There must be some way to treat them that would have given better results, or I swear, chickens would never have come to be considered edible.
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