The week I spent building my chicken pen and brooder with my dad was amazing…lots of physically demanding work , problem solving and above all, conversations. Daddy talked to me about all kinds of things…
I am a Vermi-composter…I use worms to eat my kitchen scraps and turn them into great additives for my garden. Daddy saw my two multi-tiered bins back by my shed and asked about them. He looked at me kinda funny and told me that when he was a kid they used to take coffee grounds and other scraps from the kitchen and put them in this mound out back of their house…hmmmmmm….Vermi-composting is in my blood! Who knew?
He also shared with me for the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, that his family had chickens when he was growing up for fresh eggs and meat. This is NOT something I expected…Daddy grew up “in town”, the son of a Psychiatrist! So, maybe I was meantf to have chickens?
Yesterday was my mom’s birthday and she was in town briefly, so I had lunch with she and my dad. Mom told me she thinks I am a lot like my Dad’s father…always eager to learn, always wanting to immerse myself in new things, and I definitely got the animal gene from his side of the family.
Isn’t it fascinating how the things we are passionate about sometimes are things we are destined to be passionate about?
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