The urban homesteading movement is a growth enterprise (sorry) in the United States. My current column at MSN Money shows why.
“A chicken in every condo?” details some of the ways that let people with small urban properties — or those who don’t own property — produce food.
Depending on time, square footage, patience and local covenants, you can take this as far as you want, from a few raised beds and a couple of chickens for eggs, to feeding yourself almost exclusively from your city-based “homestead.”
Two years ago someone in the apartment house next door was raising chickens and for a time at least one rooster. After a few early wake-up calls the rooster disappeared, thank heavens.
One morning I went out to get my paper and saw that someone had blocked the front door open again — and that a chicken was just stepping foot (claw?) over the threshold. I started yelling and flapping the newspaper.
The chicken screamed, turned and ran. But that wasn’t good enough for me. I chased it the length of the property, shouting, “Go home! Go back to your own yard! I am not cleaning up chicken poop in the hallway!”
That said, I have tasted fresh eggs and they are vastly superior to the supermarket version. Some day I may have chickens of my own. I’ve already named them: Regular and Extra-Crispy.
Yep, when they stop laying they will become dinner. Although they’ll probably be stewed, not fried, because the older they get the tougher they become. (Hey, so do I!)
Readers: Do you have your own farm in the city? Would you consider trying?
In other news, my writing was accepted for a couple of blog carnivals: