When my life fell apart a few years ago, I had the blessing of starting from scratch. At the end of the day, I wanted my hard work to mean something. I wanted to feel a connection with nature. I wanted the full circle feeling of sitting down to dinner and knowing exactly what was on my plate. I find growing a lot of my own food to be something that ties me to the here and now – it keeps me present, honest and grounded.

Every year I raise a flock of chickens, but not for eggs as I like to travel and having year round layers poses problems in the winter when I can finally get away. So for now, I raise them for meat. I taught myself how to slaughter and butcher them by watching videos online. I take a lot of pride in what I do. I raise them with love and make sure that they have everything they could possibly want – room to roam, fresh spring water, organic feed and warm California sunshine.

Yesterday, all 26 made it here alive and healthy all the way from Pennsylvania. They are a French heritage breed bred by a Mennonite family there. They are excellent birds – fast growing but not unnaturally so and excellent free rangers. They will live inside with Dharma and I in our tiny home for about a week so that they can strengthen up a bit. I broodered them indoors as well last year and had no loss. The year before, they went straight to the coop and I lost three in the first two days. They are often just too little, too weak from their trip and not insulated well enough to handle the cold. So, for now, our sweet little home is filled with the lulling of their chirp, chirp, chirping. I love them so…