Halloween Time

It’s a bag of candy filled with bubble gum that smells like cocoa and mini chocolate bars that taste a little like bubble gum. It’s pumpkin seeds that may have been cooked too long but you eat them anyway because no one really knows the exact recipe. It’s admiring Cristy’s mad pumpkin carving skills. It’s candy corn for those of us who love candy corn (more for me if you don’t.) It’s the smell of crunchy leaves and the last lawn clippings of the year. It’s planning on buying articles of clothing for this year’s costume that would never be part of your normal wardrobe. It’s memories of Halloween parades and candy trades with old Anchorage School friends. It’s admiring my friends and family’s costume creativity. It’s scary movie marathons with my favorite girl. It’s decorations that remind me of Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party, which remind me of the Haunted Mansion, the Headless Horseman, and Trick or Treating in the Magic Kingdom. It’s realizing that I am old enough to Trick or Treat again with nieces and nephews and also that I am past the point of pretending that drunken adult Halloween parties could possibly replace the joy of collecting candy from strangers for hours on end. It’s sweatshirts for football and warm drinks that smell like cinnamon. It’s my favorite time of the year.

Stolen Chickens

Like so many of us kids in my generation (hahaha, let’s pretend we are still the “kids,” right?) I am concerned about the poisonous chemicals in our food and the torturous way our animal (turned meat or eggs)  food is raised.  It is a simple concept, chemicals and tortured animals are bad for our bodies, our planet and our souls.  So a year or so ago when my Brother in Law and his family invested in a flock of chickens for their yard, it made me think.  Initially I thought: “Birds must be a pest.” Because have you seen the movie ‘The Birds?!’  Birds must be gross, they must make noise, they must peck at stuff like my eyes and most importantly…my dogs love to eat chicken.   However, after further inspection, his chickens were none of those things AND his dogs didn’t eat them up.  In fact, those chickens were fascinating. 

Chickens will let small children pick them up!  They will come flying across the yard when you call them for treats like some kind of tiny, clumsy, velociraptor! They make for a wonderful teaching tool for children who have no idea that the chicken they eat is a real animal they can pet!  Hens make eggs and lay them with no need for a rooster which is totally hip because it’s pretty gay!  What a lesson.

We were hooked and our hens Lillian and Peanut were so easy to adopt and care for that we immediately wondered why we hadn’t always had chickens.  Feed, water, safe coop and free range space is about all they need.  Hens make little noise and they eat much of your veggie/fruit food scrap that would have ended up in the trash (ex. melon rinds, wilted lettuce, shriveled tomatoes, peas, banana ends, zucchini seeds and those tiny pieces of corn that you just can’t get off of the cob.)

We thought we researched but apparently we did not find the right spot in our city ordinance which states that chickens and other “agricultural animals” are not allowed since they “spread disease” and most folks in Dayton, Ky live in homes with small yards.  So after about a year one of our “neighbors” decided our hens were cluck cluck clucking too loud, or were too feathery, or were actual real velociraptors, or were too lesbian, or whatever.  But someone called the cops on my chickens.  We will call him Ass Hole Neighbor.

Our Animal Control officer was very nice and gave us a week to move them (since if it had been a pit bull breed-like dog she would have to remove it to a shelter immediately.)  And don’t even get me started on the ridiculous habit of assigning death sentences to dogs because they have a certain “look” to them.

I came home tonight and went to sit outside with my girls for one of our last visits. While entertaining them and crying about it all, I noticed Ass Hole Neighbor in his yard watering his Venus fly traps and feeding his man-eating poison ivy garden.  He heard my sobs and literally threw the hose down and ran inside like “oh lord, I didn’t know the lesbians had feelings!”

I have a lot on my plate right now and can’t fight it just yet, so our pretty chickens are going to live with a friend who lives close by.  I can go and visit our girls, bring them their favorite treats (cherry tomatoes, grapes and meal worms,) and my nephew can continue to gather dried bugs for them at his home like he likes to do.  After a big project is in the bag my next major project is tackling local city ordinance bans on chickens.  These bans are worthless, silly and they push away young (ok youngish, in my case) families who want to raise as much of their own food as possible.  We don’t want our eggs coming from chickens who are packed in tiny cages with no ability to move, peck, flap their wings, dig for bugs, or really do ANY thing that is natural for a chicken.  We want to eat responsible food and not pay $6 per dozen eggs to do it.  New York City residents can have chickens. Homes don't get any more close than New York so Dayton residents can deal with some cluck, clucking.

Disclaimer: My mom is afraid that Ass Hole Neighbor will read my posts, figure out I am talking about him, and then attack or somehow shoot myself and/or Cristy.  So if you are reading this, then you are definitely NOT “Ass Hole Neighbor.”