Chicken Mcmansions.
There’s nothing like fresh eggs. I know because our cook used three of them in my Camembert omelet this morning.
When I first got into chicken farming, I didn’t know a pullet from a pullover. I was just a Greenwich hedge fund guy living the high life.
Then one day my wife, Parker, suggested we build a chicken coop in our backyard. She insists on a farm-to-table home, and though dubious at first, now I couldn’t be happier.
It took eight months of Tuesday night town meetings but once the Town Planning Commission approved our architectural plans to tear down our custom-designed gazebo and build a chicken coop, we were on our way. We hired a contractor, who took us to the cleaners, but we’re used to that. We told him to spare no expense. Essentially, we want to create a Belle Haven for chickens.
The local chicken ordinance requires a coop to be at least 10 feet from the house, and at least 20 feet from the hot tub, for some reason. So, visiting our feathered friends provides us with a lot of exercise.
I’ll never forget the day our first hen laid our first egg. I almost laid one myself! And each new egg is a thrill!
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