"Containment"

About five or six weeks ago, I get wind that someone in our neighborhood is complaining that our chickens are in their yard and they don't appreciate it.

OK.

So we took what we had on hand and built a chicken guantanimo.  Actually, in all honesty, I ranted and raved about the injustice, while my gem of a husband actually went outside and started constructing.  Like, the next day.  It isn't very pretty, but remedies the issue of our deserter chickens while we scour loading docks to gather wood pallets to build a more permanent, sturdy poultry prison. Problem solved.

Chicken guantanamo under construction.

Evidently not.

Because, today, I received an email, from the HOA board president wanting to talk about some "chicken containment" issues.

Seriously?

So, this is when I start musing, wondering why it is the neighbor that my chicken has SO terribly offended didn't call or email, well, ME?  You know? The chicken owner?  Mama hen. 

We have a community directory.  With a map.  I'm in it.  I send out regular emails to the neighborhood with my personal cell phone number at the bottom.  But I've received no call with wails of angst on the other end of how my chicken(s) has(ve) destroyed their personal property, chased their children, terrorized their pets, or anything of that sort.  My phone remains silent.  As does my email (in regards to the suspect chicken or any property damage these renegade chickens have caused). 

Our neighborhood swimming lake.

See, we live in a smallish subdivision in the country (7 miles or so from the nearest QT or Wally World).  About 100 lots, most of them developed, ranging in size from 1 to 14 acres in size and covering approximately 440 acres in total, with a good portion of common ground (parks, lakes, beach, etc.).  Our neighborhood is surrounded by nature conservation bliss almost in entirety.  It is a little piece of paradise. 

 

A family gathering in the back yard.

 

On any given day you can experience a myriad of wildlife here; raccoons, ducks, geese, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, fox, skunks, owls, hawks, snakes, not to mention the occassional chupacabra sighting. Not only that, but there are a multitude of homeowners with dogs.  Who often let their dogs out, unleashed, to roam their yard (and dodge in front of your car unexpectedly, yipping at your tires).  Some even walk their dogs along our narrow neighborhod streets. 

Geese.  In our side yard. April 16, 2015

 

So, dear neighbor, if my chicken(s) has(ve) caused some kind of personal injury to yourself, your loved ones, or your property, please don't hesitate to contact me and I will make it right. However, if my chickens just happened to get out of jail (did not pass GO or collect their $200) and wandered off into your yard in search of juicier bugs to nibble upon, leaving nothing in their dangerous wake but a possible dropping or two, get over yourself.  You live in the country.  With all kinds of wildlife making regular donations to your yard every, single, flipping day. My chicken is NOT your problem.

Geese in our front yard.

If there is property damage involved, we will make it right. There is no question there. I know all too well how infuriating it is to walk out and see your hosta bed chewed down to stubs. But unless you caught my feathered family members red-beaked and have photo evidence to prove it - you are up shit creek - because there is a plethora of wildlife out here that also enjoys eating your landscaping. To them, it is just food. To you, it is just an excuse to complain about something. Because if you really had a problem that needed a remedy or correcting, you could've put on your big girl panties and contacted me directly. Like a grown adult. Like a neighbor. Who I have to live by. For atleast another 22 months. Count on that.
                      

 Deer from our family room window. I don't remember the date.  A few years ago?

 

And to my deer, I mean dear, HOA president.  I envy you not. Your position on our HOA board is completely voluntary, almost entirely thankless, utterly underpaid and I'm so sorry the neighbor who contacted you didn't have the balls to contact me instead, but felt the need to bother you with this ridiculously stupid complaint.

 

And I really think that's all I have to discuss regarding "chicken containment" issues. Yep.

 

..where there are no third class carriages...

Lakewood Hills Life - That's the Life For Me

There’s a crazy lady in our neighborhood who appears to be making it her life’s goal to be a pain in the ass to her neighbors.  But I guess there’s one in every neighborhood.  Right?  This is what I tell myself. 

I know many people must believe that their neighborhood is special and extraordinary.  But ours really is.  No really.  It is. 

 

When I turn off the county road and onto our little drive, everything changes; the light, the smells, the sounds.  It FEELS like home.  So I focus on that and not on the close-minded attitudes of the few and far between.  I focus instead on the community I have here.  The friends I’ve made.  The neighbors I can call for help at a moment’s notice – and who have been there for me.  The neighbors I can drop in on and barely knock before I walk in the back door to the sound of happy hello's.  Or the neighbor who not only doesn’t mind if I drop by unannounced, but proceeds to feed me and share an entire bottle of wine between us.  Or the neighbor who regularly drops off her son’s outgrown clothes and toys for my grandsons. Or the neighbor who insists you come over and try out the hot tub on the spur of the moment.

 

I remember these friends and neighbors, not the neighbors who say one thing to my face and another behind my back.  Or who speak in third person about me (when everyone knows who they are talking about), when I’m sitting right behind them at the homeowner’s meeting.  I focus on the community we have that helps each other out when a tree falls across their road or driveway, a family pet is found, or a teen’s cell phone is lost. A community that volunteers their time and energy to keep our neighborhood connected by organizing holiday gatherings in the neighborhood’s common grounds; cooking and decorating and cleaning. 

 

When we first moved here ten years ago, there were a few events a year around Easter and Halloween.  Now we have a monthly ladies night, a yearly Christmas cookie exchange, a yearly plant exchange, not only an Easter Brunch and Halloween party, but we now have a pavilion in the park where these events are centered,  a separate Trunk or Treat in addition to the Halloween party, and a 4^th of July BBQ.  This year we are talking about adding a fishing derby in the Fall.

 

 

I’ve witnessed this community get tighter and tighter each year.  Even as the homes get sold and new families move in – there is now a concerted effort by the community to make them feel welcome – and it doesn’t just fall on the few designated neighborhood welcome reps.  We built a website and even have a Facebook page.  The community did this.  Those are the positives.  There are those that live here that don’t make a positive contribution to the neighborhood, who complain and cause strife.  And there are those who just lay low and keep quiet.  But for the most part, the COMMUNITY is a positive one comprised of the people who take the time to personally contact a neighbor about their loose dog or their fallen tree and not just verbally vomit at the nearest board member. 

It would be nice if those that just lay low and keep quiet would become more engaged. I’m of the personal opinion that inaction is still an action.  To quote George Bernard Shaw, "The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that's the essence of inhumanity." I’m from the South, and I grew up hearing, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” 

Let’s play the what if game, shall we?  What if, instead of complaining about other people, we focused on improving our own shortcomings?  What if, instead of complaining about your neighbor’s house, you improved something in yours?  What if, instead of calling someone else to complain about your neighbor’s - whatever, you walked over and introduced yourself and struck up a conversation about – whatever (their bonfire, their chickens, their car, their dead tree)?  I don’t know why people don’t do this.  That is your neighbor.  They live right next door or a few doors down and you pass that house every day – evidently. What if, instead of spending time complaining, you actually talked to your neighbors?  Face to face.  In person.  What a concept, right?

Male-Driven White Trucks

What's up with all the guys on the road this morning driving their white pick up trucks like sports cars? Really?  REALLY GUYS? 

On a happier note...I found the photo I snapped with my phone of the horned toad I found in the yard the other day. It looked like it had horns.  You tell me what you think.  I thought it was adorable and it must have sensed my adoration as it continued to sit nearby and allow me to pet it several times.  It was too cool!

Home. Sweet. Home.

I know it's been a year since I posted, but the urge has hit me again, so I thought I'd try to start this blog thing back up again.  I've subscribed to a blogging lab and I've been getting these emails, well, that are pretty motivating.  I've been even more motivated to work outside lately.  I guess it's the weather; it's finally turned cooler here in St. Louis and this is my most favorite time of year.  Fall.  I've worked in the yard every day after work this week.  Tending the chickens.  And prepping the garden for spring.

These are four of my girls.  I love to sit and listen to them chatter as they forage.

The geese have been flying in too.  There have been geese on the lake almost every night this week when I come home.  They make a racket when they take off, but it's still quite a site to see them flying above the water.

While working in the yard, I noticed all of the tiny crickets and frogs that are hopping around right now.  Not to mention the swarms of gnats and those bothersome mosquitoes!  I also found a large horned toad.  Well, at least it looked like a horned toad.  I took a picture with my phone - I'll have to post that next time.

Working so much in the yard has been tiring, but I actually feel better overall after being outside and enjoying the outdoors.  Do you know what I mean?  It doesn't seem so much like work or exercise. 

I know it isn't OFFICIALLY Fall yet, but it feels like and I'm loving it.  I hope you are enjoying it too!

Cats Coffee Sunday

As soon as I opened the door onto the porch this morning my cat, Ella, darted out. By the time I got my coffee and came back to sit down she was chewing on one of the two ferns. This is part of the reason why all my plants are either dead or look like apocolyptic leftovers.  Zombie plants if you will.  So I yell at her and she makes a hasty retreat knocking down an empty metal planter as she goes. The noise scares our other cat, Bella, back into the house. I watch as Ella walks around sniffing and jumping onto anything and everything as if she's never explored this vast and sunny place. She sniffs out my coffee and ignores me as I try to snap a picture of her. Something catches her eye, she freezes in place for a split second, her head scoops down and I see her nose twitch. She gingerly unfurls from sitting to standing like cats do and jumps down to investigate this curious find.  But it is only part of the fern leaf she chewed off earlier.  She settles in to finish her snack, stopping occassionally to look at me with the leaf suspended  from her whiskers, as if its floating at the edges of her mouth in wait.  I suppose she is expecting to be rebuked but the damage is done and I'm more interested in sipping my coffee.  She finishes, licking her chops as if she's just devoured a fine feast, and saunters over to the lounger. She looks up, squinting at the sun, she looks like she's smiling. She jumps up and settles comfortably into the cushion. As if sensing Ella's level of relaxation and taking it as a threat, Bella has come back onto the porch and bee-lined it to Ella.  Ella senses her foe and defends her position, swatting as Bella goes up on her two hind legs and falls away and trots off, ears back. Bella goes to stand under the other fern, the one yet to be molested - today. If cats could whistle, I swear she would be. And have her paws neatly clasped and twiddling her little thumbs too. I wait. I sip. Ella decides she's safe, yawns, stretches out, eys closed, head aloft. I hear the immenent rustling. I say "No" long and low and Bella cowers off, flopping onto the floor and looking at me with such longing.  This makes me wonder if ferns taste like chocolate to cats. I wonder why I bring them onto the porch with me. If I truly wanted peace and quiet, I would close the door, locking them out.  Then I see Ella sunning on the lounger. And Bella flopping back and forth on the floor like a fish out of water while making her happy squeaky-chirp sounds and I know why. They remind me to do the same. Relax. Lay in the sun. Be curious. Sniff things out. Eat chocolate. Defend your lounger. Be in the moment. Stretch. Smile at the sun.  No wonder the Egyptians held cats in such high regard. Look at what they teach us.

The Blunt Housewife

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