when I grow up…

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My greatest ambition in life is to be a turkey farmer.

What? How? Why? I hear you ask.

Whilst at school, one year our agricultural class bred turkeys for the pure festive-season-baked-lunchtime requirement of our teacher. From caring for the fluffy little chicks until they became googly looking birds, I was hooked.

A small opportunity for me to have at least one turkey arose when we moved to a very small property and built a chook house (well I site managed while hubby built). In the typical way things happen in our life, the building of the chook house took over twelve months, by which time we decided to ease into the role of poultry caretakers and start with a few chooks and work up to the ‘holy’ bird.

The chooks went well, providing eggs daily and entertaining/surviving our dogs. At about the time I felt we were ready for my beloved bird, I fell pregnant with Kiddie No.1. Of course that was magical but the turkeys got put on the ‘after the baby comes’ list.

Now after moving (twice), travelling, the arrival of Kiddie No.2, starting-up a business and beginning a part-time job I am still without a turkey in my life (I mean there are turkeys but not the feathered variety).

No worries though, I know one day there will be, perhaps not a farm of them, perhaps not even ten but certainly there will be one gobbling around my yard.

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