Dinner at Three Weeks
Leandro thus far seems to have no problem with his exalted position at the top of the food chain.
He likes the laying hens and during this week’s trip to Restoration Farm, pestered Donna (Mother Hen) to no end until she took him over to visit the girls. The fact that they refused to come out from under the hen house was transformed into an exciting lesson in the predator vs. prey relationship when a pair of hungry hawks soared overhead. Chickens aren’t as dumb as they look!
He’s not as fond of Trisha’s chicks – the ones destined to become meals. He pronounced them stinky and boring. “One of them is going to be dinner for you one day soon,” I said, while we weeded the strawberry patch. “Dinner? What!?!” he responded. And then he sort of nodded, said, “Okay,” and went on with the business of sorting the good insects from the bad (and stompable).
"They're stinky!"
There are 30-odd chicks. They have just turned three weeks old, and they are still cute, if a bit pink in spots rather than feathered. They don’t stink, by the way. They are now out in the fields in a pasture box, fertilizing and weeding the berry patch with great enthusiasm, while Trish visits other farms and learns the art of slaughter. We volunteers can talk of nothing else but how to kill a chicken during lunch break, which might not be everyone’s idea of appropriate mealtime conversation, but I like it.
More on the chicken project as we move forward into the Hazy, Hot, and Humid Long Island summer.
Hot, Cheap & Easy 
For the more grammatically-minded amongst you: that should read “We volunteers can talk of nothing else during lunch break but how to kill a chicken…”