Confessions of a Bad Chicken Mama

It is confession time. Oh, I really don't want to tell you this, but I just can't blog properly when I'm hiding something.

I lost my chickens. I know. I know. It is too awful. I am a terrible baby chicken mama. Ellie and her friends were playing in the coop with the cluck clucks and I guess the door wasn't closed properly or something because when Maddie went to feed them the next day they were no where to be found. Only (I can barely stand it) a pile of feathers.

I know. It is totally my fault. I knew the latch was tricky sometimes and I forgot to go out and make sure it was secure after the girls were done playing. I feel so ashamed. My poor babies.

There, now you know. Farming is hard. There is a mole who has stolen four of my tomato plants, too. And because I am such a bad farmer it took me almost a week before I bought poison to put down his little holes.

Because who really wants to kill something? Even a naughty little mole? So I spent several days running water down his holes and sending him BAD vibes in the hopes he would feel my negative energy and go away. It turns out it doesn't really work that way.

But now we have eight new chicks and Marc fed our mole poison peanuts and I guess we are going to give it another shot. Send me your good vibes, kay?