Thursday

The chickens are a mere cartoon version of our own daily trajectory. Honestly, you think they're not thinking it through to structure for themselves a good life? Well, neither are we! Take this morning. I head out to open the coop for them. The two older girls -- Blue 9 and Blue 11 (these are the foot bands we slapped on their claws) -- meander toward the courtyard. Eventually one flies up to the garage rafters where she now retires at dusk, and lays eggs during the morning hours. Stupid for her to scale the walls and position herself in a tight, uncomfortable corner up there? Oh yeah! Just as dumb as falling asleep on the uncomfortable couch and staying there with a cramped neck all night. The other chicken, her buddy, ambles over to the hydrangea bush where she looks rather forlorn. Since the loss of her three compatriots,  and the garage laying habits of the other Blue hen, she is often walking the farmette lands on her own. Girl, there are four new chickens just waiting to be integrated into your fold! Hang with them! They need your guidance and worldly wisdom.

(The Yellow Brave one -- meaning the new one year old with the yellow band on her foot -- is off and running. Also alone. The three babes are too chicken to head out!)

In other words, the small things that would obviously improve their day are so within reach and yet they look elsewhere, choosing the colorful path, the immediate temptation. Just like humans!

Ed and I come back to oatmeal this morning.

Immediately after, I worked (not very hard) on preparing birthday greetings to my two sons-in-law. Fate would have it that they have birthdays within ten days of each other, which is rather a gift for me as it allows me to think, reflect and admire the both of them at the same time. What matters, of course, is that my girls love them and that they make them happy. Luck would have it that I like the both of them as well, but of course, it would be hard to imagine otherwise, given how good they are to and for my daughters. 

From there, I move to the flower fields, clippers in hand. I am very aware of the fact that I can do so much less at one haul this year than last year and even less than the year before. That's okay! Given the lovely weather of the past few days, I got a head start on the season. And I'm mindful of what Ed said -- we do as much as we can and as much as we want to (that, for me, is not necessarily the same thing, but it's close enough!). And then we pause. 

 

 

 

My pause is actually a bit of a rush -- to pick up the kids at school.

From there -- to the nearby pie place to pick up a pie for their dad (it's his day!).

And back to the farmhouse. We read, yes, that's a given. But, too, I have to snitch little moments -- to deal with the laundry, to tidy up the playroom, to peel tomatoes for tonight's chili. And in doing that last task, I glance outside, and what I see warms my heart: all six chickens, momentarily together.

Way to go, girls! Strength in numbers! 

Indeed, at dusk, they all go into the coop, even the garage girl. Wow. We are in a moment of total chicken calm and unity! And here I thought they were like us, drifting and confused.

We all have so much to learn.

Chili, chocolate, couch. The three c's of a beautiful evening. 

with so much love...