Rocksaboxen.

I am thankful, extremely so, for a fence this year.  We cobbled together some pea fence that was collecting dust in my aunt's barn, extra pea fence from my folks, and some of our leftover chicken wire to make a perimeter fence to keep out FerociousTomatoGobblers (a.k.a. chickens).  Pounding in the stakes was not a pleasure--big, fat baby whine-- considering the majority of hole digging around here upturns more rocks than dirt (insert representative hole here




and another here

and a third here





but the end result is bringing more pleasure than it probably should.  The chickens mill about but haven't yet realized they have wings that enable them to scale the fence.  I'm glad chickens are so dumb.

And rocky, clay-heavy soil isn't the worst thing in the world, either, when one discovers natural-born rock pickers in one's living room making forts.

Put them to work in their natural habitat instead, and they'll clear out rocks in no time!

Cheerful, little creatures, aren't they?