Ongoing Stories of My Soul

Look over my shoulder as I ponder life.

The Scoop on Chickens (Urban Farming Comes to My House)

      Hey! What do you think about this new trend called ‘urban farming’? You know….when folks in the city contribute to community gardens, have chicken coops, and the like? I think it is a great idea!! My heart’s burning desire is to someday own a miniature donkey, and since I am kinda tied to a mortgage, guess I will have to bring the farm setting to my back yard. Sort of like, “Green Acres Meets Irvington.” I have experience, you know. My grandparents owned a working dairy farm, complete with chickens and soybeans, and a hay mow (if you said ‘mow’ as in lawn MOWer you don’t know what it is…is is ‘mow’ that rhymes with ‘now’). Back to the chickens. I used to collect the eggs with my grandmother and help her store them away in the cellar. The egg money was hers to keep. It was her own business venture.

       So….I like eggs. And I was thinking about having my own chicken coop. But I detect a small problem. I have two dogs. One that is vigilant in burying my socks and underwear; the other whose energy level would transform my backyard chicken coop. I think the discussion would go like this:

Inquiring Friend Who Wants to Know: “Hey Deb, heard you had a chicken coop. How’s that working out for you?”
Deb: “Um….my chicken coop turned into an Eggless Chicken Scoop.”
Inquiring Friend Who Wants to Know: “Don’t know that I have heard of a Chicken Scoop…care to explain?”
Deb:”Well, built the coop. Bought the chickens. Let the dogs out. After a barrage of feathers, Max scooped up the chickens. Harper buried the eggs. Thus, an Eggless Chicken Scoop. Wasn’t pretty.”
Inquiring Friend Who is Sorry He Asked:”Oh my! What did your neighbors say?”
Deb:”Plenty. None of it I can repeat here. Let’s just say that I have had a lot of ‘out of city’ dreams, being a misplaced country girl at heart. Sure do want that miniature donkey. But that will have to wait.”
Inquiring Person: “Oh yeah…those dogs and the donkey would be a hot mess!”
Deb:”And the police visits are just a nuisance. Think I might have to wait until I meet a farmer and relocate.”
Inquiring Person (Somewhat): “Oh….have you met a farmer?”
Deb:”No…just municipal authorities. But a girl can always hope. In the meantime, guess I’ll just plan on installing an outside clothesline. My grandma used to hang out her clothes on the line. I loved that.”
Inquiring Person: Butwon’t Max attack the clothes and doesn’t
Harper bury your socks and underwear?”
Deb:”Well, every great venture involves sacrifice. I’ll just give up socks and underwear.”
Inquiring Person Trying to Get Away: “Um. Oh. Okay. Well, I have to go now. Good luck with that clothesline.”

     Sigh. Maybe I should accept the fact that I am a city girl with a country girl fantasy. Chickens, donkeys, clotheslines…guess a girl shouldn’t put all of her dreams in one basket. Speaking of such, there will be socks and underwear in my clothes basket. Didn’t want you to think I had truly lost all my scruples!

      I have to give Harper something to do while Max is looking for those chickens.


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