meaningful stuff about eggs and cows and such

O.k., whenever i wrote last, i rambled on and on about my chickens, posted one little picture of the cat at the end of my post, and got 4 million comments on how cute the cat is(exaggeration inserted for emphasis) and one combo compliment on office, chickens, and cat.

So i have come to understand that "my readers," whatever that means, might not be as entranced with my beautiful and truly amazing chickens as i am.

Thus i feel the need to explain.

After working in the worlds of offices and paperwork for 10 plus years, last August, i was promoted to the position of Full Time Homemaker. This is a position for which i had NO experience. However, Full Time Homemaker is a position i have dreamed of for much of my adult life.

Now, i know what you might be thinking. And i didn't want to be a full time homemaker just so i could sit on my toosh. While the sick time benefits are outstanding, being a homemaker, to me, means much more than cleaning the house and making dinner. When i say "homemaker," i think Caroline Ingalls, Olivia Walton, and the virtuous woman described in Proverbs 31. I do not think of June Cleaver or Marion Cunningham. And i most certainly do NOT think of any of the "Housewives of [such and such] County" or those other Desperate Housewives. I make a very specific distinction: HOMEMAKER, not housewife.

What's the difference? Well, while i'm certain that June and Marion theoretically (theoretically because they were fictional characters) did their share, and they worked hard to make a nice home, when i think homemaker, i think chickens and vegetables and hearty stews and cornbread and Christmas cookies and flower gardens and maybe a cow and ....... perhaps you're starting to see into my head.

So back to that issue of the non-experience. By my own definition of homemaker, i should actually say that i am a homemaker in training. I have never done any of these things. I'm just wingin' it. So after an all but complete failure of a garden, two dead peach trees, and the end of the era in which i thought it would be cool to have puppies, the chickens are my first sign of success on the road to becoming a true, respectable, successful, Full Time Homemaker....instead of just a lady who stays home and makes dinner and sort of keeps the house clean and writes stories on the internet in order to feel in touch with the outside world.

I have six healthy, fast growing, active, beautiful chickens, who i can reasonably expect to begin laying eggs in four months or so, and that will be the first sign of success in the goals of having a productive homestead, where i am the homemaker. And on that day, that i see the first yummy farm egg in my back yard, i will most likely cry great tears of joy and do a very funny looking happy dance for all the neighbors to see and run and hug my husband shriek through my gurgly tears "LOOK! EGG!!"

So, that's why i'm more excited about chickens than the cat. Don't get me wrong, i love Stanley; he's my daily companion, and i love him love him love him. But his productivity level is minimal and includes half dead lizards on the porch and cat drool in my computer paper. And while i'm VERY happy to have him, no matter how much i love him or how well i care for him, Stanley will never lay an egg.

[What i have just written was intended initially to be an introduction to a story about a very scary chicken adventure, but since it has grown quite lengthy, i will leave the chicken adventures to another post. Thus "my readers" will not be exhausted by overly prolific word spouting.]