It's dark and wet, and egg production is down. For our own breakfasts, we have been alternating eggs with steel-cut oats. (FYI, Bob's Red Mill - you know, the guy who turned his company over to his employees when he retired? - sells gluten-free oats.)
Turns out chickens LOVE oatmeal. With raisins. Or dates.
On a more general note, I find I have no guilt about the thickness of the apple peelings, or the number of pumpkin seeds that do or do not make it to the roasting pan. How does the nursery rhyme go?
Holy, holy bretheren, think it not a sin
When ye peel potatoes, to throw away the skin
For skin feeds [chicky], and [chicky] feeds me
Holy, holy bretheren, what think ye?
