I think sophisticated humor is subtle, and possibly literary... it is witty. There is no need to roll on the floor laughing or to point out the sheer genius of the joke, explain the punch line... but, man, I crack myself up. I think, those years in the institute of higher learning have finally paid off. Chicken Coupe! Get it?! It should be embarrassing to me that I am so taken with my joke, but consider: I've been awake since 5:40 and I don't drink coffee, I haven't had a haircut in over a year and I've only had one pedicure in my entire life, I don't get out much, last night I had a horrible stomach ache, and yet in spite of all my glaring disadvantages I still come up with a zinger!
Chicken Coupe. That's really funny.
And if subtle wit does not work, then how about playing the cute card? I'm not above that either. Have you ever seen a 3 year old catch a pullet? Maria crashes through the undergrowth, she dodges and Betty weaves. It is a comic pursuit that ends with cackling and giggling glee. Maria calls Betty her best friend and what friend wouldn't want to share a ride in the cozy coupe?
Amelia stands back and watches the scene unfold. She hasn't crowed this morning. I wonder if I cured her with 3 hours in solitary confinement. Yesterday I left her in the shower stall... it was my desperate attempt to avoid eviction by a neighborhood mob of angry city folk. If you think Amelia looks stern, you should see the look Geoff gives me whenever she crows.
So, what kind of home would you put us in? Certainly not another tidy little place like Garage Mahal. We need something less fussy and "grand." We need a yard, for sure. We need storage and rooms for a family of 6, but not necessarily 6 rooms. We need hardwood floors and no more than 2.5 bathrooms. I do not want to see another suburban mini-mansion with a bathroom for every bedroom. Gag. One generous kitchen is more valuable to me than any number of "formal" rooms. No columns, no chandeliers, no marble entries. Laundry chutes... laundry chutes are cool. Laundry rooms are awesome, especially when the architect knows what happens in a laundry room, so it's designed with work in mind. I would not object to a laundry room the size of a bedroom. I would not object to a swimming pool, raised garden beds, a barn, or a finished attic. I like window seats, niches, arches, covered porches and old trees.
One of these is Fantam the Dark Bantam and the other is Buttercup. But which is which? Can you tell them apart, because we hardly can. Buttercup has actually gotten darker and Fantam is growing more golden feathers.
Our teeny-tiny farm operation brings so much joy. This picture brings me joy... the bliss, the exhilaration, the intuitive instinct for enjoying the moment at hand.
1 tomato plant and a handful of ravaged carrots, 4 chicks and a bunny... it's not much, but it is certainly testing the limits of this yard. I would so much rather have a real chicken coop, than a master suite and sunken tub. Oh, wait... let's enjoy the moment at hand... who wants salsa?
Yesterday's post was a fond look back to happy times and our sad last visit to Kalopa, and it was a farewell and aloha to our plans and hopes for a life there. I wonder if we will ever part with all of those dreams, but I know we need to make new plans, to know what we want now, in order to move forward. It still feels like we are living in a holding pattern, waiting for tomorrow. That's not good, I know. So I look at my children and I follow the chicas, and pluck tomatoes and I let go, while taking in new visions and enjoying the moment at hand.