Chickens.Hey, I'm from the City. Well, okay, I have had my tomboy moments, but no, I was NOT raised on a farm in the midwest. Deer hunting (whether you're pro or con hunting) was an event, not a way of life. Eggs? They come from Trader Joe's. Milk? Don't even drink it, yet alone need to get it every morning fresh from the animal. Would I like to? Sure, but I'm fairly lactose intolerant. The eggs, however, I think I could get into...
Enter the Chickens.
Remember the last blog? The Central Coast Ranch? Enter the Chickens. Capitalized. Yep. CHICKENS. Even in a different type face!!! (font for you correct types...)
So my only job before leaving the Ranch was to feed and water the chickens. Simple. Two scoops of some lovely colored yellow/gold/white mix stuff sprinkled artfully on the ground of the coop (walk in size), fill the water container with the hose on the side of the office/shop, and put it in the coop. No problem. Until you realize that CHICKENS have their very own agenda. No really. They do. Forget that Bird Brain statement. They know EXACTLY what they want out of life, and they know how to GET IT. Enter the City Girl. The first picture on this blog - the one of the two black birds - well, one made a run for it the moment I opened the door to the coop to get the water into the space. JAIL BREAK!!!! I could hear him yell, as he bolted past me.
Oh NO. How will I ever tell my friend I lost one of this chickens. (it's probably a rooster, but what do I know)
So the chase begins. Through the barn, down to the lake, towards the garden, back down the drive, back through the barn. Wait. He stops at the coop door. Okay, I think. Good. I walk towards him. Let me get the door for you. Hah. What am I thinking. Back through the barn, down the drive, up to the lake, stops at the door for a moment, then back up the drive to the garden, down the grade, up the grade, well, you get the picture.
So I take a calculated risk. Besides, I can NEVER call my friend and tell him I lost one of his chickens. At this point I'm ready to try anything. I open the coop door just a crack, hoping the other chickens won't notice. Hoping they don't have the same creative streak as this guy does. And we begin the chase again. But this time, when he stops at the door, it's open just a bit and he pushes through. A HAH!!!
So, once again, you ask. What does this have to do with quilting? At this point you're asking what does this have to do with LIFE?!?!???
Well, here are some answers for you.
1. Water is heavy. So don't fill your watering device to the top - it's hard to carry all of that stuff. And then if you want to open a door, do something simple, you're bogged down with this full water container. Leave a little room for air. For breath.
2. Don't run around chasing chickens. Enough said - running around like a chicken with their head cut off. You know the saying. We all know the saying, and we all do it.
3. Don't try to think like a chicken. Do your own thinking. Enough said.
4. Try something unusual - take a risk. Open that door. Count on the good people in your lives. Don't focus on the one bad 'chicken' in your life. (one bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch)
5. Believe in the good of your friends. Look at the donut not the donut hole, as my friend has recently said to me. Weeks later, I told my friend about 'loosing his chicken'. It didn't even phase him. "Yea, that happens sometimes." I was sooooooo worried about what would happen if I ever had to admit to him that I lost one of those chickens...
Lessons from the Ranch.
be.do.create
2008
Thanks for thinking of
b e y o n d t h e r e e f
Natalie.
PS - between chasing chickens and wrapping presents, I have had some time to post some new patterns on the website - I hope you'll take another look around the site!! We're going to try to add a few specialty fabrics - tropicals, Alexander Henry's...just a few...and if there's something special you are looking for, please email us!!
3 comments:
Yes, I remember the first time I tried to outsmart a chicken. Fortunately I was 9 and on my cousin's farm. She thought I was nuts and put my wannabe horsewoman hiney on a very (very) rank pony who let me know that chickens were the least of my worries. It's all relative. Be kind to your relatives over the holidays. Like chickens and rank ponies, they can't help who they are. Just love them and let them be them. Happy Hols BeNat - you're a gem!!!
What's the deal with not telling your friend about his not-so-domestic fowl? I would be willing to bet that he or she has had their own run-in with the fowl species from time to time - could have been a real bonding exchange . . .
I'm betting just about everyone has a 'foul story' to tell. I guess I just had mine a little further down the road. Thanks for sharing. And thanks for the advice on the honest approach with my friend - - bonding by chicken!!! Now that I know that just about everyone has their own experience, I know you're right about this sharing part.
Thanks again for visiting - I hope you'll make us a regular stop along the way.
Natalie
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