Sometimes it gets pretty fowl around here. And lately, it seems like the fowl have declared war.
Case in point… our Bourbon Red tom turkey has decided he’s one tough turkey. Every time I go into the pen with him and the hen, I have to carry a broom to fend him off while I fill up the feed bowls. Isn’t there some kind of adage about not biting the hand that feeds you? Seems to me that should carry over to a winged assault as well.
But I’m not the only one suffering from a fowl assault. Just take a look at this:
The Farmer and I were out measuring the pond this weekend. He needed to calculate how big it is so he’d know how many fish he needs to order to stock it. It’s not as big as he thought I’m afraid!
Anyway, while he was waiting on me to come outside, he and his best buddy, Toby, were resting.
You can see The Farmer has a big reel of measuring tape there we used to get the width and length of the pond. It’s in the shape of an ELLIPSE, so my mathematical genius Farmer had to use some special whiz-bang calculations to figure out the size.
Now to find someone who sells fish in smaller quantities. We don’t need lots of 100!