Hey, y’all! I
bet you thought you would NEVER hear from me again. No such luck, sucks to be
you!! I sort of wondered if you
would ever hear from me again too; it has been a while since I had any ideas to
write about at all. Well, I mean, I had a FEW ideas. Just piddly little things, really, like the one where I was
thinking I could stuff footballs with wine to take to work, because people
there like sports and they might not notice someone drinking from a football.
Not very practical, because those things taste terrible on the outside, plus I
can’t even take full credit- it was a collaboration with some of my more
twisted coworkers. But now I think
I might be getting my mojo back for real! See, I took this remote vacation BY
MYSELF! There was not even any internet, can you believe such a crazy thing? I
couldn’t even text! I know, I wasn’t sure I would survive either, but not only
did I not shrivel up into a teeny tiny dried up husk of skin and die, I had at
least a jillion brand new ideas! I would go running on the beach and the
notions would just cascade into my brain like little suicidal lemmings. I had to hurry back to my room and
write them down before they crushed each other into a big squishy heap of
brilliance!
It sounds pretty easy, doesn’t it? This taking a vacation by
myself thing. And it would have been, too, if it hadn’t been for those darn
meddling chickens. Oh, you didn’t know about the chickens? Right, I guess not,
because I haven’t written anything for what feels like a million years. We have chickens! We started with five,
and are sadly down to three, because RACCOONS. So, until we figure out a
chicken sleeping solution that is raccoon-proof, they have to be locked in at
night and left out in the morning. EVERY night, and EVERY morning. This, as you
might suspect, completely negates the advantages to having chickens, and there
are many: delicious fresh eggs, high quality poop/compost, and peaceful
clucking. Not being willing to abandon the girls to take their chances with
prowling predators, I scooped them up into cat carriers and transported them
with their accoutrements to Grandpa’s house to get chickensat. That sounds pretty easy, doesn’t it?
HA! You might not know this, but chickens are quite wily. And fast. Really, you
have to hold them with both hands.
Which is fine, and not problematic at all, unless you are laying on the
mud and chicken poop covered ground because you fell trying to catch one, and
now you caught one only you are laying on the ground holding a chicken with
both hands. I think I invented a new yoga move; I call it ‘chicken up’. I hope
there’s not already one called that. I wouldn’t know because I don’t do yoga.
It’s boring. Also, it hurts. If I need exercise I can just go collect chickens.
Finally with chickens satisfactorily collected, we set off
for Grandpa’s house. I mean
satisfactorily to me, of course; I’m not sure the chickens would agree. I would
ask them but they aren’t talking to me. My car smelled like a barn for a while, but it aired out in
time, and I was off to collect lemmings. The chickens are definitely easier,
but the lemmings smell better. To me, I mean; I’m not sure the raccoons would
agree.
