to get behind the sun and cast my weight

I can’t usually read The Selby because its too awesome.  Bad reason, I know, but I’m a jealous beezy when it comes to seeing other people’s beautiful, well decorated lives.  I can deal with success and money unphased but show me a stylish London flat and its impeccably dressed inhabitants and I lose it.  Despite my best efforts, I came across the following post through another blog and it tugged at my heart strings. In my domestic fantasy I live with a bunch of friendly chickens who lovingly donate their eggs to me which I promptly transform into omelettes and quiches with the greatest of ease. I’d throw a brunch where my guests would gasp at how bright the yolks in their Eggs Benedict were and how rich the flavors to which I’d respond by escorting them to my well kept chicken oasis out back. They’d hold little Plucky McFeathers and confess they’d never seen such a magnificent specimen. I am a city girl though so when I saw this rooftop city farm featuring chickens, bees, bunnies and veggies galore, I checked my attitude at the door and fell in love with it.

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