I’m on chicken duty. With thirty lady birds needing their nightly roost and their owner off with her kids, having their scarecrows judged at the fair, it’s fallen on me to see them safely into the hen house. Just yesterday, Evelyn played in their pen, crouch-walking with arms outstretched, trying to pick them up. She was about 10% successful, and the ones she did nab practically let her, sitting on their bums like meditating Buddhas.
It’s Friday, and although I’m a landmass away from next week, my head started panicking as if tomorrow’s Monday. It’s not, and thankfully, my blood pressure is dropping back to normal levels.
Chicken detail, however, was tough. Instead of walking themselves up the plank into the pen, they ducked under and around it, circling the backside with squawks, outrunning us as we tried to corral them. At the limit of my frustration and the edge of my patience, they wriggled out of our grasp more than once. But the brightest idea came from Evelyn, who suggested putting the feed inside the pen, as the ladies kept congregating around it rather than going in.
Evelyn also played gatekeeper, holding the ramp closed as Dave and I tried to guide the chickens, then lowering the drawbridge-like mechanism whenever we had one close. I might have been too hard on her, scolding her when she accidentally walked them in the wrong direction.
She was doing her best, and her frozen response to my sharp, “Not like that,” made it clear she felt she’d failed. In reality, I just wanted to redirect her. Some things aren’t that serious or that important, and in moments when it feels like they are, I need to remind myself they’re not.
Still, eight multi-colored eggs now sitting on the back of our garaged golf cart are the prize for all our efforts.
Now, with the weekend ahead, I’m looking forward to a slower pace, maybe some coffee on the porch and watching the birds at the feeder. Here’s to hoping the next couple of days bring less chasing and more peace. Happy weekend, everyone!
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 