Feb. 1st, 2012
First, an update on the girls. I stopped by yesterday after volunteering at the Humane Shelter. The farm was quiet and there was no one around but three restless chickens. They’re not finished with the fence, so the girls were still enclosed in their coop. I had grapes with me, so I fed them in turn through a crack in the door. I’d like to pretend they knew me and were happy to see me, but it was probably just the grapes. 🙂 I refilled their water and snatched a Daisy egg from the nest box. (I’m getting to be such an outlaw!) I will see them again on Thursday when the Montessori students meet Rosie, Violet & Daisy for the first time. I will lead the students to meet the girls wearing my beautiful chicken suit.
I hope the parents aren’t afraid for their children to be escorted by “Miss Debbie Chicken”. I am an actual teacher, licensed by the state of Alabama, so I’ve had a thorough background check.
This is my 133rd post. I began the chickendiary on April 27th, 2011, nine months and four days ago. It has been one of the great joys of my life. Thank you for reading and responding to the ravings of a slightly obsessed madwoman. Kindly leave your comments at the end of this final post so they will be enshrined in the chickendiary in perpetuity. 🙂 I’d like to close with acknowledgements and expressions of gratitude.
To our neighbor who waged an eight month campaign to evict our pets–The victory is yours my friend. I hope it was sweet. My Aunt Carol said it best and I quote, “It ‘s a shame the board makes you give up your chickens but allows a turkey to stay!”
And to all our supportive, fun-loving, forward-thinking friends who brought their families to our back yard to gather eggs, feed grapes and pose for fotos with fowl–Thank you for sharing this adventure with us. It was a wild ride and we don’t regret a thing.
And to Dr. Glasscock, who saved Daisy’s life after the feral cat trauma–Thank you for your skill and kindness. She was worth it, wasn’t she!
And to Robert, from the FEED LOT (shameless plug) who helped us pick out three little balls of fluff from a galvanized tub in your store–You are a fabulous pet-picker!
And to Dennis and Tama, our excellent “chicken sitters”–Thanks for your time and effort and letting us take an occasional vacation.
To Terri, our sweet backyard neighbor who lived in harmony with our girls for nine months (even though she is not a “chicken person”) 🙂
And to Jim, who spent countless hours and labor building chicken structures and countless dollars paying for vet bills and pricey organic chicken feed– I thank you from the very bottom of my heart. Not many husbands would indulge their crazy wives in such a way. I hate to embarrass you, but here goes…I love you.
And to Daisy, Rosie & Violet–Thank you for being the sweetest, prettiest, silliest, smartest chicks a girl could ever know. I’ll miss you very much. Please be good at your new home and never forget your chickmommy.
Signing off–Deb
The chicken world is a much better place because of you. You are an inspired writer and I am proud to call you family. Maybe some day the turkey will fly away and things can change. The girls provide grandchicken opportunities each day.
love you
I love you too cousin and friend. Thanks for the sweet words. See you very soon I hope. We can go see the girls at the Hampstead when you come.
I have to wipe the tears out of my eyes to see what I am typing. :(. I hope that old b@$%&$d!! can put his head down peacefully at night. I wish very bad things for him. Obviously, he is a petty, mean and miserable person. Debbie, It has been years since I looked forward to something as much as I did the chickendiary. Although I never met the “girls”, I felt like I knew them. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for entertaining me for 133 times. I love you!!!
I treasure these comments Renee. You may certainly meet them when you come visit me. I have unlimited visiting privilages! Now why don’t you go back to the beginning and start over. That’s what I’m gonna do. Know anyone in the publishing world? 🙂
Oh my dear auntie. I wish your turkey of a neighbor could just let it be, and be happy that you didn’t have a rooster! I too have enjoyed your chicken journey. I feel closer to you being able to read about your adventures. I can’t pick up an egg anymore without thinking of you. 🙂
I think you need to keep blogging in a non chicken capacity. Hugs! Xoxo
Thank you muchly my dear niece. I only had one blog in me. Love you. Aunt Debbie
Well, I’m calling a spade a spade, and I hope the damn bastard gets what he deserves. Ed taught me that much!
Love you, Deb, and I hope you get to continue enjoying your girls. When y’all head south (you and that husband of yours), we’ll have a poultry tour of Ocean Springs.
Much love, hon,
dm
Thank you Doug. I will probably visit them several times a week. Today I’m wearning my chicken suit to give the Montessori kids a tour of their new pets. I’m coming to visit very soon. Much love.
Smooches!
Right back at ya cousin.
I must say, this makes me sad! I wonder how your mean, busybody, chicken-hater neighbor will find meaning in his life now. As my son would say, “What a poopyhead.”
Poopyhead indeed. Thank you so much Karen. Chickens rule, poopyheads drool!
Have a nice glass of wine, knowing you are better for the experience and that no other ChickGirls have ever had a ChickMommy like you! You have prepared them well for their new role as educators!
Dirty Dogs always get their day….. and when it happens, visions of chicks will flash before his eyes. A person of mean spirit never accomplishes anything of worth.
Write On!
Thanks Linda. I spent the morning in a chicken suit showing 25 kids the wonder and majesty of my three ladies. I’ll tell them their biggest fan says hi. Love you.
That old buzzard. He sure has ruffled quite a few feathers. I, too, have enjoyed reading & keeping up with the girls. Rosie has a special place in my heart. The Chickendiary will truly be missed.
Actually Lynnessa, you ARE Rosie. A beautiful and unusual bird, inside and out. Thanks for your friendship.
No kinder words have been spoken. I am, surprisingly enough, without words.