McFagelson Farm Inn was a popular place and well known for its Saturday night barbecues. They not only had guest rooms and a couple small apartments to service the help, McFagelson Farm was a working farm with cows, horses, goats, sheep, a few chickens and a variety of wildlife critters that often came around, unless George caught them raiding the hen house. They didn’t usually return. Gus and Ollie had lived there for a little over a year and Greta, Agnes, Lucy and Fern had lived there almost as long. Now Gus and Ollie were missing, just disappeared without so much as a good-bye. The ladies were deeply concerned and as rumors spread…Well read on.

An account of my time in Silver City, New Mexico, and the animals I live with.

Rooster as metaphor, he seems sublime, subborn male ego, must be on top.

A haiku about the word cluck.

Two thousand years plus a man came walking by the shores of the Sea of Galilee. His footprints left a trail each of us are to follow, but few do so. His teachings are so important to the lost but few are willing to become men/women who came walking. This is a story of one man of India, he did come walking.

I wrote this one a few mornings ago.

I love waking up to a rooster’s crow in the mornings.

A poem about chickens and how they behave. Roosters aren’t always so scary. Sometimes they’re just scared.