Everything with the big animals is going swimmingly; the chickens, on the other hand, are being a pain in the neck. They are escaping the chicken run each time I go in and out from the barnyard and have begun turning my box and pallet gardens into their own personal day spa. They have dug up my row of garland, Seamus' carrots and Liam's lettuce and radishes.
I am going to have to lug a few wheelbarrow loads of gravel back to fill in under the gate and fence where they keep squeezing through.
Ugh!
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