I come from a family of farmers, but me. . .not so much. We have always had big gardens in our yard - as kids we would always grumble about Dad making another garden in the yard (not sure why as he and Mom are amazing green thumbs and our backyard has always looked amazing with the flowers and vegetable gardens, plus it meant less lawn to mow on the push mower, but it was probably the thought of weeding - not that I ever did much of it).
Anyway, I move to Zambia and my head is full of farmish ideas. I have even taken an agriculture course on farming in Africa, started many garden projects, tried to build a compost (epic fail), and raise chickens.
The chickens might be my favourite farming project. Perhaps it is because for a while they were my very smelly roommates and because the remaining two have survived the perils of life at Grace and because they are entertaining (and I think pretty smart). They refuse to stay in their chicken pen (okay that might be stupid as Cajun keeps trying to eat them). We have made the walls higher and even strung twine along the top of the enclosure in the hopes that they stay in their designated area, but they prefer to rule the roost. They climb the chicken wire and jump down into freedom every morning, and every night around 5:00 pm they wander back to their pen for the night. Smart chickens these village chickens.
Melinda is laying eggs much to the excitement of all of the kids; as you can see there are currently six lovely brown eggs waiting to hatch.
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