Sunday, February 4, 2007

The Joy of Duct Tape and Atomic Chickens

The little Scotty is all snug, wrapped and duct taped to keep out any further elements until I can assess what needs to be done. I should have already done that-but I was enjoying so much just sticking my head inside and dreaming every day or two. But, you have to take care of your dreams or they will get wood rot.

Strangely enough (for me) I wasn't all despondent, I just fixed the problem and moved on. I have to think that comes from the size of the investment-I love the Scotty, but I told myself if I made a bad choice and it fell apart the day I bought it that it would be one of my lesser losses. I say this lovingly as I gaze upon my $2000 and counting rescue "free dog".

I've been too citified lately-I didn't even HAVE any duct tape-the handy man ran down to the store and bought several rolls-he left one just in case. I think he was horrified that a person could NOT have duct tape.

Actually, I grew up in an electrician's home, and electrical tape was my tape of choice, but I didn't have any of that either. I think I had some packing tape left over from a move. Clearly I am not prepared for any natural disaster. There is a Skaggs and a Big Lots right down the road, but what IF they were suddenly GONE?

Now, I grew up in an era when they taught disaster preparedness in the schools and scared the hell of me while they were doing it. We had to be READY in case the mushroom cloud appeared. I wonder if somehow that didn't sow seeds of resignation in some of us.

My biggest fear was that I would live and my family wouldn't and I would be alone. Turns out, that isn't too far off base-I'm the youngest of a family tree that is withering. Wouldn't it be ironic if I were left alone...and was delivered from my solitude BY an atomic cloud? It's those kinds of thoughts I generally keep to myself because I find them comforting.

The truth is, if there is an absolute truth, no one knows what life will bring. I doubt anyone at 46 is living the life they imagined they would at 26. These fears are just a macabre way of trying to control and deal with the unknown.

While researching the urban chicken movement, I came across a site that was geared towards the coming famine when we would all need chickens to sustain ourselves. The more chickens and eggs you had, the better off you would be because you would have food and currency. I just want to play with some baby chickens and then let them grow up and eat their eggs. I like the idea of a pet that will contribute to more than the emotional well being of the group. I am sure that I will come to love the lowly chicken as much as I would a $2000 parrot, assuming it is a hen, that is. Roosters scare the bejesus out of me. Keep your mushroom cloud-if you've ever been chased by an angry rooster-shudder-that is the real stuff of nightmares.

I haven't worked out how the chickens will fit in to the traveling part of my life. I'm planning on cutting down on the plane trips and kennel bills, but I don't think I'll be toting the girls along with us on camping trips. The current theory is to make sure the girls are socialized and have a neighbor kid come over and feed and water them-of course, that will mean bringing my chickens out of the closet. As a matter of fact, if I go with the portable hutches, I could just roll the chickens over to the neighbors yard and let them fertilize their backyard for a week. Perhaps I have just created the Mobile Urban Chicken Movement.

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