I worry that this chicken is going to get picked on 'cause she has dumb hair.
I worry that this chicken is a bantam because she seems to be getting littler as the other chicks get bigger. Actually, I'm sure she's a bantam and I didn't want a bantam on account of their tiny eggs. Clearly someone at the chicken store goofed. Now we're stuck with pygmy girl. Maybe she can be friends with silly hairdo.
I worry about this chicken because I think she's a he. I'm focusing on the comb, which is very pronounced and red compared to the other Buff Orpington combs. Should my fears bear out, I will have to send this poor bird away to die, or kill him myself. If you know me at all, you know what I'm going to do, but let's not count our chickens.
I worry that my "office" looks like this and smells like barnyard compressed into a very small space where the windows can not be opened because of the bee hives right outside.
I worry that it doesn't worry me that my son's bedroom looks like this. At least the cat is there to keep back the vermin.
Also, I worry that I get overly involved in television shows. Aren't you supposed to be, like, fourteen when the impulse to hang a poster of Tim Riggins on the bedroom wall strikes? I still wonder sometimes about Angela and Jordan Catalano. Did her parents work things out? Did Ricky find peace? And Jim and Pam, Derek and Meredith, the Sheriff and the Widow, all my old pals in the O.C. . . .
These days I just want to be a Dillon Panthers rally girl.
I think Chicken #1 may be revealing his/her aspirations as a Vegas Showchicken. I haven't seen a headpiece like that since Goddess at the Stardust.ReplyDelete
Also, I thought I was the only person that worried an inordinate amount about silly things that are out of my control, i.e. the size of my chickens (metaphorically), and whether or not my favorite TV couples stayed together after the final credits rolled.
I'm so glad I found your blog. :)
I am encouraged by the state of your son's room. It makes me feel more at peace with the state of my own children's filthy hole.ReplyDelete
now should i worry that my own flat looks much like your son's bedroom, minus the cat, even though i am in my mid-30s? I'd rather worry about chickens, to be sure....ReplyDelete
the whole idea of that poor gal being ostracized for her 'dumb hair' gets me right in that uneasy place between wanting to laugh at her dumb hair and wanting to protect her from all the mean girl chickens.ReplyDelete
LizA, I could have included pictures of other awesomely messy parts of the house, but was too embarrassed. Instead, I decided to embarrass my son. Classy.ReplyDelete
i think that rod stewart-looking chicken is going to rule the roost, unless, of course, there really is a rooster in there. nothing toughens you up for life better than bad hair.ReplyDelete
hey, i just stumbled on to this blog through the most unlikely of searches, but i must say it is highly entertaining.ReplyDelete
bit of an eccentric, that tipsy. but delightful!
can't wait to see what's next.
melvil, if you're reading this, i hope you're not holding back from commenting on the dumb hair chicken because you feel badly that you haven't made the egg man for us to see yet. we still want to hear from you, and we trust that you'll post that egg man photo before too much longer.ReplyDelete
yeah, melvil. where's the eggman? where's the walrus? coo-coo-ca-choo!ReplyDelete
i'm back for the 4th time just to peek at the dumb hair chick. he's so dignified with his dumb hair. i think he knows it's not good, but he's being stoic about it.ReplyDelete
I would also like to be a Dillon Panthers rally girl these days. It seems like a nice, simple existence.ReplyDelete
I love your blog and forwarded yesterday's post to my husband, who, like me, has a healthy obsession for FNL. Several of us over 40-something women talk way too much about Tim Riggins. And, the state of our kids' rooms. Thanks for the entertainment!ReplyDelete
ok tipsy, now we are starting to have some of our own worries. where are you?ReplyDelete
I've been at Star Trek eating movie popcorn and cleaning out the chicken cage.ReplyDelete
I too wondered what happened to Angela and Jordan, and thus read the MMPB "My So Called Life Goes On" which was like a wrap up:ReplyDelete
Did you know you're part of a bogus trend of backyard (or in-office) chicken-raising?ReplyDelete