Exactly one year ago this morning, Trip and I woke up in our bed for the very first time in Virginia, over seven hundred miles from our family and friends.
It's been a whole hell of a year.
Monday, July 26, 2010
The life and times of Carlos the blue rooster
A brief photographic summary of Carlos' stay at the homestead:
The day I brought them all home, less than 24 hours old. Holy shit do I really have chickens?!
3-4 weeks old now. He's up front acting like he owns the place. He basically did, though.
A good 1.5 - 2 months old. We were good friends at this point, walking around every day while I talked to him about life and things in general. He cooed and cawwed, naturally, as most do when they hear me speak.
I'm not sure how, but he's gained quite an affinity for beer at this point.
Both of these photos are from one of his last days walking and sqwauking around the yard. I borrowed a really nice DSLR camera from the school to take some deserving photos. Pretty nice, huh?
His final resting place, where he spent the previous hour with a can of PBR (nectar of the gods) up his ass in my oven. A pretty fitting way to go, in my opinion.
Rest in peace, Carlos, until you are my undesired alarm clock in heaven.
2/7/2010 - 7/16/2010
These are the very first eggs my girls laid. They've since been eaten (astonishingly yellow, delicately flavored and delicious). The other Orpie sister has started to lay as well, so we're getting about two eggs a day, which is going to mean a lot of scrambled eggs and Trip's favorite brunch food; quiche! Baaha, not really. Maybe one day I'll make one he likes. But he's going to have to keep eating them until then anyway. Ah well.
The day I brought them all home, less than 24 hours old. Holy shit do I really have chickens?!
3-4 weeks old now. He's up front acting like he owns the place. He basically did, though.
A good 1.5 - 2 months old. We were good friends at this point, walking around every day while I talked to him about life and things in general. He cooed and cawwed, naturally, as most do when they hear me speak.
I'm not sure how, but he's gained quite an affinity for beer at this point.
Both of these photos are from one of his last days walking and sqwauking around the yard. I borrowed a really nice DSLR camera from the school to take some deserving photos. Pretty nice, huh?
His final resting place, where he spent the previous hour with a can of PBR (nectar of the gods) up his ass in my oven. A pretty fitting way to go, in my opinion.
Rest in peace, Carlos, until you are my undesired alarm clock in heaven.
2/7/2010 - 7/16/2010
These are the very first eggs my girls laid. They've since been eaten (astonishingly yellow, delicately flavored and delicious). The other Orpie sister has started to lay as well, so we're getting about two eggs a day, which is going to mean a lot of scrambled eggs and Trip's favorite brunch food; quiche! Baaha, not really. Maybe one day I'll make one he likes. But he's going to have to keep eating them until then anyway. Ah well.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Woodrow Ford and the mysterious production of eggs
One of those girls has given me three eggs now... but I'm not sure which. Woodford?!?!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
It all came full circle in just one tiny weekend
Friday, I killed Carlos.
I went to the backyard to grab him, to which he barely resisted. Carried him dutifully to the front yard like I'd done a thousand times before, and held him while the funnel was prepared. He remained calm, collected, almost proud. I didn't feel sad. I didn't cry or feel remorse. I had a job to do, and I did it.
He's in the refrigerator right now, waiting patiently for his final preparations. He is tomorrow's dinner.
Saturday, Trip and I woke entirely too early to ride yet another wagon train. Things were going semi-well, when the sky opened up and poured on us, and then stopped. It's not very fun to ride a steamy animal in heat and humidity with wet jeans, underwear, and hair.
Saturday night, however, was a blast. Those people really know how to party.
Sunday morning I didn't feel like riding. The horse I ride is in so much pain due to the ill-fitting tack I am forced to use, it's not worth it. I thought I'd spared him, but he was ridden anyway. So I just hung out with some baby chickens, and chopped some veggies for a fresh pasta salad until Trip and the rest of the men returned. Baby chickens are so silly.
Sunday afternoon Trip and I were so exhausted we took almost a three hour nap! That's the longest nap ever in our histories together. I hate taking naps. This one was was mandatory. I awoke to gray skies and sauntered down the road, just Woodford and I, well, and some sweet tea in a jar. At the very end of the 1.1 mile stretch of dead end road, it was completely, totally silent. I stood still with the ground for a few minutes and watched a storm come over Price mountain. There were two separate and small rain clouds far apart. It looked like a Charlie Brown cartoon. I thought I was safe. But I started feeling big drops. Ah, poo. Luckily, my knight in shining armor came by in his big truck and saved soppy wet Woodford and me. :)
Sunday night as I was putting the girls (hens) away, Trip said "What the hell laid that egg?" I ran over to inspect... It was, indeed, a chicken egg. It all came at once. This little brownish egg from this little blackish bird that knows nothing but to eat, sleep, play in the dirt. It's heavy in my hand. She made my day. She made my year. It was the period that ends a profound sentence at the end of a book. This is what it's all about.
I went to the backyard to grab him, to which he barely resisted. Carried him dutifully to the front yard like I'd done a thousand times before, and held him while the funnel was prepared. He remained calm, collected, almost proud. I didn't feel sad. I didn't cry or feel remorse. I had a job to do, and I did it.
He's in the refrigerator right now, waiting patiently for his final preparations. He is tomorrow's dinner.
Saturday, Trip and I woke entirely too early to ride yet another wagon train. Things were going semi-well, when the sky opened up and poured on us, and then stopped. It's not very fun to ride a steamy animal in heat and humidity with wet jeans, underwear, and hair.
Saturday night, however, was a blast. Those people really know how to party.
Sunday morning I didn't feel like riding. The horse I ride is in so much pain due to the ill-fitting tack I am forced to use, it's not worth it. I thought I'd spared him, but he was ridden anyway. So I just hung out with some baby chickens, and chopped some veggies for a fresh pasta salad until Trip and the rest of the men returned. Baby chickens are so silly.
Sunday afternoon Trip and I were so exhausted we took almost a three hour nap! That's the longest nap ever in our histories together. I hate taking naps. This one was was mandatory. I awoke to gray skies and sauntered down the road, just Woodford and I, well, and some sweet tea in a jar. At the very end of the 1.1 mile stretch of dead end road, it was completely, totally silent. I stood still with the ground for a few minutes and watched a storm come over Price mountain. There were two separate and small rain clouds far apart. It looked like a Charlie Brown cartoon. I thought I was safe. But I started feeling big drops. Ah, poo. Luckily, my knight in shining armor came by in his big truck and saved soppy wet Woodford and me. :)
Sunday night as I was putting the girls (hens) away, Trip said "What the hell laid that egg?" I ran over to inspect... It was, indeed, a chicken egg. It all came at once. This little brownish egg from this little blackish bird that knows nothing but to eat, sleep, play in the dirt. It's heavy in my hand. She made my day. She made my year. It was the period that ends a profound sentence at the end of a book. This is what it's all about.
Friday, July 9, 2010
I know I shouldn't.
I'm spending the majority of the day fantasizing about what I'd be doing with myself if I had no student loan debt, or even half of my student loan debt. It gets me nowhere, but I can't help it.
I really want to take some photography classes here at Virginia Tech. The classes themselves will be free, but I need a Mac laptop before I can even take the pre-requisite, and then a digital SLR for the classes. I'm not going to abort the mission, but right now it just seems impossible.
I really want to take some photography classes here at Virginia Tech. The classes themselves will be free, but I need a Mac laptop before I can even take the pre-requisite, and then a digital SLR for the classes. I'm not going to abort the mission, but right now it just seems impossible.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
