Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. -- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Frankie and Slim
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
GOLF BALLS WORKING
I purchased a dozen recycled golf balls and put them in the chicken's nests. They are fooled into thinking they are eggs. They peck and peck but the golf balls won't crack and they drift away discouraged. I have gathered over twenty eggs. Hopefully the chickens will forget they ever liked to eat eggs. Cross your fingers.
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thats weird !! I didnt know chickens eat their own eggs! My david couldve given you some used golf balls
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