Pop Pop Fizz Fizz

I want a pair of cute pajama bottoms—maximum softness and appealing color scheme matter. The red plaid jailbird ones I folded and stuffed in the drawer for the 500th time today have got to go. I wish I were younger when my aunt took me to the fabric store and sewed whatever I picked out. Those were the good ol’ days.

I held my teenage rooster’s fanned right wing as Dave cut eight of his flight feathers. It was time. The past two days Chick-Chick’s aggressively ruffled his neck feathers, jumped up like a kangaroo, and used his beak like a battering ram toward Evelyn. I can’t have that.

It is nice having him penned up instead of free-roaming. No more little white morsel leavings on the railing and deck or 5:30 am wake-up calls from the tree he roosts on right outside my bedroom window.

But I do feel bad; he needs a lady friend. Ooh, I have an idea! I am seeing a friend tomorrow with countless chickens; maybe there’s one getting pecked (wink, wink) on. We’ll see.

I made kettle corn tonight and just remembered I want one of those hand-cranking popcorn makers where a metal rod circles the bottom of the pan to keep the kernels moving. I’m a popcorn-making worry wart, tense and hyper-focused on if the kernels are burning or not. After seeing a woman on TikTok turn the Jack-in-the-Box-like handle on hers – I’m sold. Peaceful popping is in my future.

Also, a peaceful night’s sleep is coming up too, free of cock-a-doodle-doos and early Evelyn wakings. Let’s get a grand slam and sleep into a never heard of 9 am. Good luck and sweet dreams to me!

Love, Jaclynn

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