A Chicken In The Hand Isn't Worth A Hell of A Lot
We live on 12 acres in the middle of nowhere. This affords me the opportunity to wander about the yard quite unkempt over the weekend. Good for me, I like this. Hair up, carhartts on, tank top, gloves, leaf blower, argh argh argh. Not many neighbors - Billy the Drunken Fisherman who lives down the hill. . . Fletchers, Mr. and whoever he is married to now. . . that's it. Across the street is a bit of acreage that Randy the Hippy sold to a couple. I've never seen him, which means he looks like Tom Cruise. She looks like a goddamn model. WTF?
I met her once when she came walking up the driveway with her sister to see our goats, Jake and Elwood (may Elwood rest in peace - that's another blog) She walked up the driveway and I was refilling the weedwacker. I saw her walking up, as I was covered in dirt, grease, wearing goggles and looking like the star of Saw IV. I mumbled, "Oh F(&# me." She yells, "Hey!" arghhhhh, then "We came to see your goats." and finally "I don't know what I'm supposed to do in the middle of nowhere??" I answered, "There's always work to be done around the yard." Who am I Paul Bunyon? She gives me the once over and then says, "We gotta go, see ya later?" (this needs to be said about 3 octaves higher and with a bit of a valley girl twist) .
Then one Saturday morning, I'm enjoying a nice cup of coffee, wandering around in boxers and a t-shirt, when I look out the window and see a fox. I scream, "FOX!!!" which is the household alert to run around frantically. I run to the garage, put on duck boots, completing the outfit, and head out screaming, "Get out of here!!!"
I see one chicken running through the yard, I bend down and scoop up Milky Way the chicken (don't ask) and I go looking for Rose and Hershey. I see them running up Barbie's driveway, I pick up speed. Hey good news! Here comes Barbie down the driveway!! Let's review I'm in a t'shirt, boxers, duck boots and I have a chicken under my arm. She rolls down the window, "Well hi there!" ..... "Well F#*$& you!" I didn't say that. Instead I say, "Have you seen two chickens running up your driveway?" She didn't. Rose came back, Hershey didn't. She's not very neighborly and I'd trade her for Hershey.
I met her once when she came walking up the driveway with her sister to see our goats, Jake and Elwood (may Elwood rest in peace - that's another blog) She walked up the driveway and I was refilling the weedwacker. I saw her walking up, as I was covered in dirt, grease, wearing goggles and looking like the star of Saw IV. I mumbled, "Oh F(&# me." She yells, "Hey!" arghhhhh, then "We came to see your goats." and finally "I don't know what I'm supposed to do in the middle of nowhere??" I answered, "There's always work to be done around the yard." Who am I Paul Bunyon? She gives me the once over and then says, "We gotta go, see ya later?" (this needs to be said about 3 octaves higher and with a bit of a valley girl twist) .
Then one Saturday morning, I'm enjoying a nice cup of coffee, wandering around in boxers and a t-shirt, when I look out the window and see a fox. I scream, "FOX!!!" which is the household alert to run around frantically. I run to the garage, put on duck boots, completing the outfit, and head out screaming, "Get out of here!!!"
I see one chicken running through the yard, I bend down and scoop up Milky Way the chicken (don't ask) and I go looking for Rose and Hershey. I see them running up Barbie's driveway, I pick up speed. Hey good news! Here comes Barbie down the driveway!! Let's review I'm in a t'shirt, boxers, duck boots and I have a chicken under my arm. She rolls down the window, "Well hi there!" ..... "Well F#*$& you!" I didn't say that. Instead I say, "Have you seen two chickens running up your driveway?" She didn't. Rose came back, Hershey didn't. She's not very neighborly and I'd trade her for Hershey.
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