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“Parting Words from Moristotle” (07/31/2023)
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By Bettina Sperry
Slipping out the door, I always seem to walk more quietly when heading to the chicken house. There’s always a gathering of colorful eggs from my assortment of chickens, even here in winter. Some small, some average, and often a really large egg that sometimes contains two yolks. I relish the simple life here on my farm. It is where I gather in the quiet, escaping public chaos to appreciate days paced by Mother Nature for living slowly.
By Bettina Sperry
[Editor’s Note: This column marks Bettina Sperry’s return to the staff after a few years’ time-out. Let’s all welcome her back!]
Recently, I spent a few days watching one of my new chickens clearly thinking herself a Queen Bee. She gets herself into everyone’s business. She’s got an attitude. She is bossy. She is sure of herself and tells the other chickens what to do. She is a bully as she huffs and puffs her way around the chicken yard. Best of all, she does not think, nor understand, nor does she look behind her, but most importantly, she doesn’t look ahead of herself either.
