Life is strange, but I still know where my towel is!
See "Letters to the Chicken Lawyer" for some of my favorite Douglas Adam quotes, and get out to celebrate life, the Universe, and everything while you can, however you do it, and if it's spending the day with chickens or lawyers, more power to you!
What, spend the day with lawyers? Why you curses us, Chicken Lawyer? Truth be told, I have had the pleasure of knowing many fine lawyers - that take pride in their work, know their stuff, put the counsel back in counselor, and who will drop everything to help a client through a crisis. Yep, I'm wishing you chickens and lawyers for Towel Day! Life is strange.
Do you know someone that raises chickens? If you do, I'm going to recommend you bum a morning off of them. A morning of feeding and conversing with chickens is good for the soul!
Taking care of my chickens is how I start every day now. In case you are thinking of bumming a morning off of me, I warn you, I am NOT a morning person. Nonetheless, I can't wait to get up and out to the coop. Even the incessant rain fails to deter me.
On most days, it's a peaceful start. I have two doors to my coop. Starting on the far end, I bring out a bowl of chicken feed to add to the feeder, sprinkled with some chicken scratch for added chicken fun. While the birds chow down at that end, I visit the front end and pull out the waterer. I hose it down, fill it up, and it's good to go for another day.
I head back in the house, grab a cup of coffee, rummage in the fridge for a treat for the chickens/my breakfast, and then head right back out . Before the screen door shuts, I've plopped a chair in front of the coop to take 10 minutes to chat with my chickens. They might just love me for the treats, but they have much to say, and are great listeners. I have two young roosters, both attempting to crow now, and well, it's just plain funny.
Yesterday morning, though, was not so peaceful. My choice of chicken treat/breakfast was grapes. Nice big juicy purple ones from Thriftway, my local hometown grocery store. I tossed 10 grapes in the coop and sat down to enjoy my coffee. Oh My Lord! Turns out my chickens will cut you for a grape. 7 chickens - 10 grapes --gone. As the pine shavings were settling, I noticed Spike, my favorite "lap chicken" making odd noises and shaking her head. Of course, she had a whole grape stuffed in her beak. Sigh - put the coffee down...
I tried to reach Spike from my end of the coop. No luck. By now, she is sounding really pathetic. I close that end of the coop and run to the other end, trying to catch the asphyxiating chicken. Even less luck, as Spike has decided I am trying to steal HER grape rather than SAVE her life.
There does not appear to be a chance that the grape is coming out or going down, so I do what The Chicken Lawyer has to do. I jump up in the coop, pin that chicken, and remove that grape. Thank you, Jesus! As I (triumphantly) exited the coop, my fluffy green robe doing its best impression of a chicken coop floor, I was doubly thankful to be living out in the country, because I have a feeling my old neighbors (Hi! Deb, Hi! Ann) would have certainly caught the whole show, and it would NOT have been pretty.
I was a bit flustered, feeling a little guilty for almost killing my favorite chicken, covered in pine shavings, and experiencing a side of glee at my "success." I closed the coop door, shook myself off, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed back in to the house to catch my 8AM conference call. After wrangling a chicken, I was sure I could handle negotiating a shareholder agreement! I'm just glad it wasn't a video conference.
Yes, tending the flock is good way to start the day, but maybe all of you with kiddos feel like that every morning! I'm lucky - I can shut the coop door!
Don't forget to leave me your feedback, now! The Chicken Lawyer loves to hear from you!
So, I have a blog now. I suppose I should blog about something. It's a lot of pressure, coming up with something entertaining enough to be worthy of a first blog entry. If I wait until that happens, I'm not likely to be a prolific blogger, which appears to be the one requirement of a successful blog. Freeing myself of any duty to be entertaining, I feel comfortable asking you to sit back and listen to story about a road.
This is not a "Why did the chicken cross the road story?" as no chickens are crossing the road; the chickens are safe in my garage awaiting the arrival of their new coop.
No, this is the story of my road, officially known as "Dusty Lane", as named by father for reasons unknown roundabouts 11 years ago. Dad could have named the road anything when Linn decided to allow its good people to name their gravel roads for ambulance location purposes, but Dad chose Dusty Lane, filled out the form, and sent it back to Linn without a word to anyone. After my father passed away shortly sometime therafter, my Mom called to tell me when she got the acceptance notice from Linn - "Do you know what your Dad did? He named our road Dusty Lane, and didn't tell me about it! " Such was Dad.
Any who, the road is not particularly Dusty. And Lane - well, Lane, sounds a bit nicer than the reality, but Dusty Lane it is now. I have to admit it is much better than the "Rte. 294-A" that I used to walk home from school on, plagued by grasshoppers in August, snow in January, and the oh so exciting days when the "creek was up."
I have many memories of the road, and I spent a lot of time contemplating life to the sound of the crunching gravel under my feet as I walked home. It was the location of my first car accident, when I took out a fence post (or 2) at age 16, and my Mom and I spent a fair amount of time sitting at the top of the road waiting for the school bus in the mornings and listening to the oldies.
My latest memory of the road is the subject of my first blog post. I have fought the road, and the road has won. You see, the road is a chat road. I don't know anything about chat, despite my years as a Geology major @ BGSU. All I know is that chat does not stay in the road in some spots, creating dips and puddles when it rains. Also, chat appears to run off the road in certain spots, most likely carried away by snow plows and various earthly elements. This has led to a situation where I have large piles of chat in SPOT A and no chat in SPOT B.
Chicken Lawyer Bright Idea Time: I can take my handy shovel, and move the chat in SPOT A to SPOT B, thus solving 2 problems in one swell swoop, and that sounds like really good exercise, too!
I, being the Chicken Lawyer, with great passion and enthusiasm, left my lawyer desk and dusted off my shovel. And, I shoveled. I filled up my little shovel and carried that chat several feet from SPOT A to SPOT B many times. Many, many times. For sure enough times that there ought to be some progress at the sites of SPOT A and B. Alas, SPOT A is still chatty and Spot B is still puddley. The sun setting, my wrist hurting, I headed in, defeated by the road, enthusiasm for my Chicken Lawyer Bright Idea greatly waned.
I may tackle the road again soon, but tonight I wanted to say Hi! to my chickens and get some blogging done! Thanks for reading. I don't know if I even turned on the features that allow you to comment a la a usual Blog, but if you can, I would love to hear from you.