There’s a wonderful poem on one of the FWi blogs that has caught the eye of the Feathered Forager.
It’s by Owd Fred and tells the story of his mother’s poultry concern. Entitled “Mother had a brooder” it’s a good little read, here’s a couple of lines…
“They start off on news paper, with chicken crumbs to peck, And a jam jar water fountain, clean up every speck,
“After a day or two they, go in and out them selves, Tail feathers start to grow, into food hoppers delves,
“In autumn the pens were taken up, onto field wheat stubble, Pick up all the grain that shed, move the pens no trouble.”
Ripper little piece that envisages a simpler time.