While I was away, I got to go see a friend of C. , my hostess for the second half of my week on walkabout.
She had chickens. And her chickens had a wonderful yard to roam in.
I took this picture of them… [aren't they pretty?]….
which actually put me into a bit of an existential meltdown. Although it was very deeply hidden, and confined to a very small space in my beleaguered psyche, it's been kicking my fanny ever since.
Now I know I have had this … little dream… to have my own chickens for a long time. I admit I sort of went on and on about it. I even called my booth at the farmer's market last summer, 'My Three Hens', and was saving my money for chicken husbandry. I've looked at hundreds of chicken coops, and dozens of different ways to keep them safe in their chicken yards. Researched breeds, and have located an experienced mentor.
But somewhere along the line, I seem to have lost my desire to keep chickens.
Now I must admit that when Ben and Sunny dispatched one of S's hens last summer, this sort of pulled me up short, and took some of the wind out of my sails about the whole thing. I couldn't believe that they would do such a dastardly deed. I know, I know, they are DOGS. They were just doing what comes naturally. But it really freaked me out.
But my change of heart about keeping hens has not hinged on that one incident.
Perhaps it's temporary. I'm sort of counting on that possibility.
It's probably all jumbled up in the chaotic nature of divorce proceedings, and the resulting emotional fallout.
I just said the 'd' word didn't I ?
I try not to write about it here very much. I don't want to dwell on it in these pages. But it is part of my reality and I don't think it is good to be in denial about the whole mess either.
My head hurts just writing about it. I'm sure your's hurts reading about it.
Divorce sucks.
Big time.
It puts it's big fat muddy boot out and trips up your dreams.
Even the small, uncomplicated, wholesome, easily attained ones.
which actually put me into a bit of an existential meltdown. Although it was very deeply hidden, and confined to a very small space in my beleaguered psyche, it's been kicking my fanny ever since.
Now I know I have had this … little dream… to have my own chickens for a long time. I admit I sort of went on and on about it. I even called my booth at the farmer's market last summer, 'My Three Hens', and was saving my money for chicken husbandry. I've looked at hundreds of chicken coops, and dozens of different ways to keep them safe in their chicken yards. Researched breeds, and have located an experienced mentor.
But somewhere along the line, I seem to have lost my desire to keep chickens.
Now I must admit that when Ben and Sunny dispatched one of S's hens last summer, this sort of pulled me up short, and took some of the wind out of my sails about the whole thing. I couldn't believe that they would do such a dastardly deed. I know, I know, they are DOGS. They were just doing what comes naturally. But it really freaked me out.
But my change of heart about keeping hens has not hinged on that one incident.
Perhaps it's temporary. I'm sort of counting on that possibility.
It's probably all jumbled up in the chaotic nature of divorce proceedings, and the resulting emotional fallout.
I just said the 'd' word didn't I ?
I try not to write about it here very much. I don't want to dwell on it in these pages. But it is part of my reality and I don't think it is good to be in denial about the whole mess either.
My head hurts just writing about it. I'm sure your's hurts reading about it.
Divorce sucks.
Big time.
It puts it's big fat muddy boot out and trips up your dreams.
Even the small, uncomplicated, wholesome, easily attained ones.