Urban farming

I don’t like to think of myself as part of a fad, but being practical, yes I am urban farming this year.

We have lavender in the front yard. Lavender is a deterrent for moths and is great aromatherapy. If you have some under your window and open it up at night, or anytime of the day, it can be calming. At night it may be able to help you sleep better. That is if you don’t have allergies that prevent you from enjoying them.

In the back yard we have some tomatoes and that has been nice. We have a big plant and not that much of a yield, but that is this year. Next year we will plan a little earlier.

The chickens have been great and a lot of our friends have been happy to get some fresh eggs. They really do taste much better and cook up faster. The chickens are fun and have their own personality. I never knew that they would. Champers is very much the mother hen and Jamamia is nice and both like to be picked up.

Home fry, the chicken is a big girl and she doesn’t always like to be picked up, but she does like to get water sprinkled on her when it’s hot. We are not always at full production, while we have 7 chickens we usually get 5 to 6 eggs at the most. Someone isn’t consistent in producing eggs.

We keep our dogs away from the chickens since that is their favorite meal just running around there. They only make clucking sounds, in the morning they are noisy the rest of the time not so much. A few of the chickens like to peck on the plastic pail that holds the water. Its’ like a drum for them and they just like making little drum sounds on it. I don’t mind.

It may turn out that I will end up with an egg route and drop off eggs to my friends once a week. I have been joking that I will need a truck with a chicken painted on the side to deliver the eggs.

The whole lesson of urban farming is one that my grandmother taught me. She passed away a few years. I know if she was still around she would be proud of me for being resourceful and tell me once again about the chicken she got from her aunt. My Great grand- father cooked that chicken on accident one day. My grandmother had to go back to her aunt and pick another chicken, she told her father all the way home that, this was her chicken and not to kill it. Right on grandma, thanks for these and other lessons.