The Mess That Makes Us So Mad

It isn't the poop.  Or the spilled food.  Or the deep holes dug in the coop.  It isn't the scattered pine shavings.  It isn't even getting pooped on.

It's the mulch.  

When we let the chickens out of the coop to free range in the yard, there is always a mulch mess.  It isn't the mulch we have to rake out of the grass before we mow either.

It's this.

The mulch on the flagstone walk drives us crazy.  Papa Hen doesn't get flummoxed very often.  It's rare, in fact.  But mulch on the walk drives him batty.  Sometimes (like tonight) I sweep it up before he gets home so he doesn't even have to think about it.

(And I thought I  was so smart this evening putting the orange chairs up since the chickens are often scared of them.  But no.) 

And there's a cute shot of Fitz's semi-bare bottom.