Sunday, January 25:

I don’t think we’ve seen the sun more than a dozen days this winter.  That’s about par for this area, which receives about as much sunshine yearly as Seattle, WA.  Even so, the grass grows and fuels the whole farm via rotationally grazed dairy and beef cows, a small flock of sheep, a pair of breeding pigs and their offspring, and our pastured poultry.  Not that we’re not all looking forward to spring!

We forgot to run up to the monastery and shut the chickens’ coupe the other night, and in the morning there was a headless hen on the wire mesh floor.  So that evening we went up after dark with a .22.  Mr. ‘Possum was just thinking about fresh eggs and chicken heads when we showed up and spoiled his party.  Everybody has to eat; just not in our hen house.