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Archive for the ‘Chickens’ Category

Dear people who ate at Chick-fil-A today simply because Mike Huckabee declared it “Chick-fil-A appreciation day”:

I’m impressed: You decided you felt strongly enough about something that you got motivated to show support. Let’s ignore the fact that you got a meal while doing it.

Many people thought they were just showing support for “Christian” values. It sounds noble and all, but that reasoning is flawed. The God I know doesn’t discriminate. It’s “love thy neighbor” not “love thy straight neighbor.” But you can support whoever you want, whatever business you want, even if they donate money to hate groups. (Are you sure you want to give your money to a business that gives money to groups that actively persecute people? Really?)

The law, however, has to be fair to everyone — gay, straight, Christian, atheist, born here or naturalized. And the laws in this country regarding marriage are discriminatory. I’ve written about this before, so I won’t shove it down your throats again.

The reason I’m writing today is to ask you to do one small thing: Spend the same amount of time you spent in line today (or getting to the line in the first place) thinking about how you would feel if your government told you that you couldn’t marry the person you loved. Separate church from state. Please.

It’s 2012. Why are we as a nation doing the same kinds of things whites did to blacks decades ago? Didn’t we as a nation learn anything? Saying “You can’t do this because you’re not like us” just can’t be the way we do things today. It’s just not right.

So enjoy that chicken sandwich. I hope it was worth it — that you said what you REALLY wanted to say with your money.

And I respect your freedom to spend your money wherever you want, and your freedom to make a statement. In turn, I hope you respect mine.

Not eating “hate chicken,”
Beth

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Anyone can post postcard-perfect pictures. (And yes, I will too.) In the past two days, though, I’ve been more interested in capturing critters.

A puny French version of the late Trish the Chicken

Puny Trish has a friend.

A literal version of "pigeonholed"

 

From birds to beasties (the praying mantis, that is, not me)

There's a whelk on that there limestone! (Say that with a Southern accent, please.)

Flowers? No.

Snails!

Apparently, if you put them in saltwater, the snails leave their shells. Then you put them on salad. Um ... yum?

Un escargot grand

Un escargot grand avec des amis

Next post: flora of France

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A fowl day

I guess we are not meant to have chickens.

Jeanne has gone to that great coop in the sky.

It appears something attacked her in the coop (not Maggie this time, as Maggie passed away last October). Perhaps a possum or raccoon. Jeanne put up a fight, but didn’t make it.

Once again, Eddie is the one who found the carnage. (Hmmm … there seems to be a theme emerging.) He called me on my way to work, while I was already upset about something else:

That’s some jury-rigging right there. Not pretty. This is what happens when you are driving a Volkswagen and can’t swerve to miss a piece of truck tire in the road. And why Eddie hates my car. (He was driving.)

Eddie also hit a deer a couple of months ago. So Progressive loves us, I’m sure.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day for me. Worse for Jeanne, of course. RIP.

Eddie says that’s it for chickens. Yeah, well. He’s said that before.

I’ll bide my time until March, which is the start of chicken season.

 

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Chicken run

Jeanne is doing fine; thank you to those who asked about her well-being. She has been laying about five eggs per week. Jeanne and I have formed a close bond, and she comes running when I call her (like Trish used to). She likes me. Right now, she likes me!

Eddie? Not so much.

Jeanne has been pecking at the window screen on the side of our house, making Eddie angry. I asked him to feed her this morning, and this is the text message I received:

Yes, my 6-foot-4-inch tall husband ran from the chicken. Ha!

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‘Twas five days before Christmas when all through our house,
All creatures were stirring, except for a mouse.

In Naveen’s belly* it rested, all squeezed to a pulp.
(The boys loved watching the snake grab it and gulp.)

The children denied attempts to put them to bed —
Optimus, Bumblebee filling their heads.

And I with my chicken and Eddie with his dog
Had just settled down with some spiked eggnog

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door we flew like a flash.
In our bare feet, we looked like white trash.

Out on the driveway something made our eyes hurt:
The guy next door again wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Then what to our watering eyes did appear,
But a strange being — just whom was not clear.

What this being was bearing gave me pause:
Poorly written signs? Must be Santa Clause!

More rapid than Bob Ross, these signs he produced,
And shouted the many mistakes he deduced:

“No comma! No period! And what’s with the quotes?
A misspelling here – Just see what they wrote!”

To the step of the porch he came with his haul.
“Let’s slash away, slash away, slash away all.”

“Get me your stylebook, and Strunk and White too.
They must learn the difference between whom and who.”

Eddie looked at us and in a manner quite snide,
Said, “You two have at it, I’m going inside.”

And then in a twinkling, I fetched my Mac Air
And my iPhone as a camera to capture signs there.

As I drew closer to my mysterious guest,
I noticed something odd: He was kind of a mess.

He was dressed all in things that I write about
From snack food to rednecks – how’d he find out?

A bundle of Utz chips he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a vendor, just opening his pack.

A mask – just like Batman! His shoes? Birkenstocks!
His jeans were jacked up, Dixie flag as a top!

His mouth was covered in hot cheeto dust
And the beard of his chin was colored like rust.

The stump of a Sharpie he held tight in his yap,
To give to the kids for their skin art crap.

He had a broad face, around which headphones
Blasting some KISS – thank God — not the Stones!

He was chubby and plump – hadn’t been to the gym.
So I suggested that later I’d go there with him.

He winked with his eye, then his head he did nod,
And I knew right then he’d been reading my blog!

We spoke not a word, but went straight to our work.
“If we fix all these signs, does that make us two jerks?”

Laying his writing hand aside of his knee,
He nodded his head, and we laughed with glee!

It took us a while; we edited with passion.
Then he left – but I have loads of blog rations!

I heard him exclaim ‘fore he strode out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good write!”

* Naveen is the ball python we are snake-sitting for the break

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There is an imposter in our midst. Jeanne is not what the feed store said she was. She is not an Araucana. She does not really have ear tufts but she does have a rump.

And, as we found out on Tuesday, she lays pinky-beige eggs, not blue ones.

Jeanne was two months behind Trish on egg production. Maybe she heard Eddie’s threats. At any rate, we were excited!

 

Her first effort was a little small, but the next day’s was bigger.

Jeanne's products compared with store-bought. Her first egg is pictured at the bottom right. The second effort is on the bottom left.

We are so proud of Jeanne, Araucana or not! (And now Eddie can stop threatening her life.)

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Convicted serial killer accused of fifth slaying

From Staff Reports

BLOOMINGDALE, Ga. — Convicted serial killer Maggie The Dog is the only suspect in the murder of Shelly The Chicken. Shelly’s father, Eddie Concepción, found the bird’s body Sunday night in the back yard of the family home. Maggie’s younger sister, Mona The Dog is listed as an accomplice.

“I knew the dogs were a little too anxious to go outside,” he said. “Mona was not returning to the house, so I got the flashlight and started shining it around. I saw the two legs and knew.”

Warning: Graphic image

Concepción reported that Shelly must have left the side yard while the family was at a birthday party at Monkey Joe’s. When the family came home, it was dark. According to Concepción, they did not know of Shelly’s escape when they let Maggie and Mona outside.

Shelly’s mother, Beth Concepción, was clearly distressed. “We had a breakthrough yesterday,” she said. “She finally came up to me and wanted to be petted. We were making such progress on her socialization!”

According to the family, neither Shelly nor her sister Jeanne had ever left the side yard. However, sources close to the investigation reveal that Beth had said both chickens were about due for a wing clipping.

Beth reports that Jeanne, who shared a coop with Shelly, is holding up well under the circumstances.

“She just seems really sad and lonely,” she said. “I’m afraid this tragedy also will push back egg production.” Neither chicken had produced an egg yet.

Maggie had been convicted of the March 2010 murder of Trish La Gallina and the April 2009 murders of Trish’s three sisters. She had done time inside the house and outside on a leash before being released on parole.

On behalf of his delinquent dogs, Eddie is asking for understanding and forgiveness.

“I don’t think we should have chickens. Either train them to be guard chickens or get rid of the dogs. Chickens and dogs cannot coexist,” he said. “Apparently, there is some kind of code we don’t know about that Maggie is forced to enforce.”

Eddie’s son Dominic took additional steps to ensure peace in the Concepción household.

“Dominic had a talk with Maggie and he said that she’s not going to [kill] again,” Eddie said.

The family held a private service in conjunction with trash pickup.

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