
I miss the effortless beauty of youth although I wouldn’t trade it for the beauty of less-effort existence of middle age.
I miss the effortless beauty of youth although I wouldn’t trade it for the beauty of less-effort existence of middle age.
We have some problems with the other flock pecking at each other so now when the Silkies go to the Coop du Jour to range during the day, Annabel the Cannibal goes to solitary confinement at the Poulet Rouge until her Pinless Peepers arrive.
While the kids tried to kill each other with frisbees and tennis balls, we adults relaxed.
For the record, I hope he never stops doing this.
I pondered the great irony that so far our trips have turned into fiascos because the same kid had to take a shit.