HEY. I lived through my auction. Those twelve hour days sucked, and dreaming about the inventory BLEW. A SERVER yelled at one of the moms because we had a snowboard there with cartoon titties on it, which I approved. It was BADASS, and we sold the hell out of it. But now it’s over.
Today, I go to my reward. I am going to go pick up some little beepers so I can renew my happy days of yore when I was a chicken rancher. Did this really happen FIVE YEARS AGO? Holy fucking crumpets. Three beepers. Oh the chickenmanity. Pics to follow.
I have been gardening, laundering, and putting my house back together. I started seedlings on my windowsill. I have almost been forgiven for sneezing at the auction and winning a $850 vacation. WHOOPS. My ultimate bads. Anyone want to come? The house sleeps 16. Eh hee hee hee.
And today I write about offal and dick-waving at Blogher, and o hai, there are still tickets left to the reading I am participating in tonight. Tickets are five or twelve bone, and I am going first. Come and see my goiter in person!!! If you buy a book I’ll let you touch it.
P.S. Someone broke the glass at my fave rave Lighthouse this morning. Go buy extra coffee so they won’t take a bad hit from that!
ETA 11:01 a.m.: Beepers secured! They are dozing under their heat light. Hard to believe that in a few weeks only one will fit into the aquarium, and snugly at that. I got a Barred Cochin, which is one of those Frenchie furry-legged varieties, an American mutty Araucana (“Easter Egg Hen”), and a Buff Orpington. I have never had a Cochin before, but they are supposed to be mellow to the point of being “cuddly” and are supposed to be good layers. Some of my favorite birds before was my buffy named “Marzipan” and an Easter Egg chicken named “Penny.” RIP homies, RIP.
Chicken pics below the fold, and some other stuff that I decided to throw in. It’s like you ordered a hamburger and I say, “Oh, here, bottle of mango chutney Free With Purchase.”
Can you believe they just hatched on MONDAY? Birds are so weird.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Here is Franny holding one of my old Silkies, Phoebe. Franny was two-and-a-half.
On Sunday after the auction I was so tired I wanted to die, and still recovering from having slept in my Spanx, but the girls insisted I Pay Attention to Them, Already. What did they want to do? Lady Beauter Shop, of course.
I think we are still going to be playing Lady Beauter Shop when they are 40. I love family language.
And so, in conclusion, I am happy. Chickens are one of those things I need to be happy, like the jerks I live with, phad thai, velvet paintings, and limoncello. My house feels completer now.
I am sorry to say I can’t make the reading tonight. We should socialize once the weather decides to behave.
I just bought some coffee from lighthouse a couple days ago, they are the goods.. though a little small to be a “sit and read” coffee experience.
What happened? Vandals? Cretans? Lesbians? some other form of greek?
My guess is Hessians. Yes! Spring is trying to spring. Sorry you can’t make it!
Aw, how I miss having chickies! My favorite was a Buff Orpington named Barge, who gave me an egg a day. She, and her sister Lou, an Araucana with rock-star hair, were mauled to death by the fiend pit bull puppy across the street.
I had that dog killed, and I am not kidding.
She wasn’t really a puppy, she was full-grown and neglected and lived in a house with four children under 10 and got out all the time and terrorized everyone. They just called her a puppy at the Vicious Dog Hearing.
Hessians or Heshers? Need to be clear here.
Cool ‘kins.
On your Offal column, the first time my mom had dinner at my Grandma’s house: Rocky Mountain Oysters.. offal ain’a aweful back in Mizzuruh. (being a vegetable-arian for 10 years in that family.. would have been easier to have the gay)
happy weekend.
You may be surprised to know that many many times I think to myself “I’m playing Lady Beauter Shop”. It’s catchy! It captures the correct tone of irony yet wallowing.
I am slowly dying of bronchitis, the name of this post caused me to laugh until I coughed up a rainbow. Thanks SJ!
I just died of baby chick cuteness.
hi Sj! welcome back from the auction hell. I linked back to the Lady Beauter day hyperlink — I loved the Barbie King! So creepy. Made me think of the poor little deformed fetuses preserved in jars at Walter Reade Memorial hospital. (Since that place is closing, I wonder where those little guys will end up?)
Ugh, sorry for the gross tangent on a post that’s all about the unbearable cuteness of being a chick.
The baby chicks are cute, cute, cute!
I am very interested in this