Thursday, May 06, 2010

Suburban Agony

(Lola, May 17, 2008. Rest in Peace Sweet Lola)
I am tormented.
In twenty-five minutes I could be in feed store country, picking out a few of these little chickies. In forty-five minutes I could be on my way home with the cute pippers. It would be so easy. I would finally be realizing my dream, or at least the next phase of my dream. I would have more than one chicken, finally.


In twenty-fours hours I would be asking myself: "Self, what the haybale were you thinking?!"

In thirty hours everyone else would be asking me, "What the haybale were you thinking?!"

And for the rest of the summer we would be in a real fix, because real farmers have a tough row to hoe when they want to take off on vacations, when they don't have actual chciken chicken coops or barns, when the one resident hen wants to bop cute little pippers on the head.

But... but, I really want chicas. I really do.

There are other torments, and disappointments. This has not been the easiest year, but sometimes there is a little agony that looms large, and makes the heart ache.


nikkipolani said...

Oh, Natalie. You must be torn even as you look at the adorable photos of your chicas, or rather, chicklettes.

Stella Jones said...

I kept chickens in my back garden for ten years and loved every minute of it. They are a tie, of course, but for the number of days you are at home, it is well worth it.
Blessings, Star