BEACHIN' IT UP

R.I.P. MI LADIES

I am in some sort of Bardo state. Some place between sadness and hilariousness.

Sadness:

We only have two chickens left and they are the smaller ladies who are, I'm sorry, ugly. They look more like dove or pigeons or pheasant. They are somewhat skiddish and bawk about all day, never really comfortable or calm. If they ever lay eggs, which is doubtful after this traumatic experience, it will take approximately 465 eggs to make a whites only omelette.

We worked really hard to keep these ladies safe and happy. If you haven't forgotten, this isn't our first chicken experience and I was determined to make this go 'round work. We fed them cantaloupe at least once a week and blueberries occasionally. Their coop was clean and safe and they seemed to be uber fat and happy.

You can get attached to chickens. As dumb as they are, they grow on you like any other pet and it's hard to say goodbye.

Hilariousness:

I'm sorry but when I walked into the backyard and saw literally 8,000 feathers, I could not help but chuckle. WHAT.THE.HELL.HAPPENED.HERE. It wasn't a small occurrence, that's for sure. We could have stuffed 18 pillows with all of the feathers.

Seeing my entire family walk around the backyard last night looking for 'the others'. When finally, I hear, "FOUND ANOTHER ONE!"

Betty saying, "I miss our chickens but thank goodness. Now we can get some peacocks."

The ideas everyone had as to their demise: racoons, wild cats, the neighbors dog, and even an owl.
"I've heard of an owl carrying off a chihuahua puppy before."

All in all, the whole thing is just so me. I get an idea stuck in my head and refuse to give up or move forward until it is successful. I have now owned 11 chickens, eaten 0 fresh eggs, and have 2 miniatures left which will probably outlive me and never lay ONE.SINGLE.EGG. It's exactly what I get for being so gosh dang stubborn. The universe is undoubtedly shouting: YOU ARE NOT A CHICKEN RANCHER. GET A FREAKING DOG.

Omelette anyone?

Six? Already?

My prayer in the shower this morning:

God,

Thank you for six years. Thank you for 365 days times six years (too early to do the math right now but for thousands of days). Thank you for each and every time she has taken a breath and her heart has beat. Thank you for every single step, dancing steps, mud steps, skipping steps, cross walk steps, EVERY SINGLE STEP. Thank you for every tear she has cried and for every shriek of laughter. Thank you for every hair on her head and cell in her body. Thank you for every single second you have given me with her. Thank you for every good time and bad time. Thank you for her kindness and her humor and her health and her intelligence and her amazing heart. Thank you for six wonderful years with the biggest blessing a person could ever ask for. Thank you God for Betty Beatrice.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SUN AND MOON!!!

Awake My Soul