This girl. This persistent little outside-loving force bugged me for a week to take her to the local chicken house after we discovered it, so she could hold some chicks. She wants five chickens, as well as "lawts and lawts of rabbits". She yearns to garden and farm, and it's all been there since she was tiny- except then, they were "wabbits" and "hickens". Is there a gene for this desire?
I can see that a second-story flat isn't going to be enough room at this rate. In a thriving backyard-chicken and bee town, nearly anything fowl or buzzing is possible. Plants, and making medicine, are her other two favorite pastimes. She collects herbs and leaves on her walks and grinds them up, leaving them on the deck to dry. It's a game to walk the neighborhood and spot yarrow growing in the unmown yards and rosehips in parking lots. She said yesterday in an exasperated tone, "Mama. I will ALWAYS BE ON FIRE." I have no doubt at all about that.
She scored a wooden mortar and pestle at a local thrift shop, we're currently reading I'm a Medicine Woman, Too! by Jesse Wolf Hardin and popping into this local joint regularly...
Urban Farm Store on Belmont Ave., Portland where the baby chicks, lay mash, and friendly servicefolk are plentiful.
I can predict that A Chicken in Every Yard, will make the bedside table soon enough. Passionate little bedtime readers will be thrilled.
