Chickens is weird, man
Down to my last two – this boy, Sam, and the last of the of the polands, Albert.
Whichever boy is in captivity, the other one keeps him company outside the chicken wire. They groom together and eat treats together and burble at each other.
The moment I open the door – and I have tried it, experimentally – they try to kill each other. To be more accurate, Sam tries to kill Albert.
Sam is about a quarter the size of Albert, but he’s little and quick and fierce and Albert is a big slow lummox with very poor eyesight due to his magnificent topknot. Sam once scared him so badly he flew over the hedge into the field next door, which was a joy to deal with.
I know what’s going to happen. Sam is a pekin and an elderly one for his breed. He’ll go first and I’ll be stuck with Albert, my least favorite chicken of all time. He’ll probably live forever.
p.s. Sam has been known to chase our pudding of a cat right up a tree.
October 2, 2025 — 5:34 pm
Comments: 1
Happy birthday, my old faux pas
Today is Julie Andrews’ 90th birthday. Woot!
I was four when Mary Poppins came out. I adored it. I made my mother take me to see it seven times.
One of those times we’d had a tropical downpour and we drove through an intersection where the water came up to our rocker panels. That doesn’t have anything at all to do with this story, it’s just one of those hyper vivid memories that sticks with you forever.
One day, I’m told I said thoughtfully to my mother, “Mother, if you died, do you think there’s a chance Papa would marry Julie Andrews?”
I don’t think she ever forgave me.
October 1, 2025 — 5:50 pm
Comments: 6