I AM a Farmer, Dammit

When I first told everyone I was getting chickens, I heard a chorus of naysaying.

From Hubby: All these chickens are going to be is more work for me. You say you'll take care of them, but I'll be the one watering and feeding them every day.

From Dad: You have no idea what it's like to take care of an animal every day.

From Friend: You're not exactly... the farmer-type.

Now it's two months after the arrivals of my feather bundles, and I can say that I have, indeed, proven them all wrong.

Every morning I put on my muck boots (which are actually pink camo... Hey... I'm a girl!) and walk to the chicken coop. I open the pop door for my birds and greet them as they flutter out into their run.

Every other afternoon or so, I check their water and feed to make sure it's clean and fully stocked.

Every evening I put on my boots again. I make sure my birds are securely locked away inside their coop, safe from predators and other night nasties. I bid them goodnight and pleasant dreams. (They're so cute when they're drowsy!)

So SCREW all those people who were naysayers! I actually am the farmer type, and I'm very happy with it.