April 13, 2014 – I saw Mom walking around the side yard with her head down muttering, “Yup, we’ve got grubs.” I cupped my wings to make my voice travel further and yelled out to her, “Don’t worry, Mom! We’re on it!” Then, I raced around the chicken yard with my clipboard and a whistle calling an impromptu meeting of the flock. When everyone had gathered around me, I brought them up to speed.
“Listen up, chickies. I know this is our day off, but we’ve got trouble right here in River City. It rhymes with tea and it starts with G and that stands for GRUBS!”
“River City…?” Peaches echoed.
“Don’t mind her,” Sawyer chimed. “She thinks she’s Harold Hill from The Music Man.”
When you have to explain it Sawyer, it loses some appeal. “Where was I?” I continued.
“Grubs,” Wilma stated flatly.
“Right. Grubs. It seems that we have grubs in the side yard. It’s no wonder since we haven’t been ranging there much since winter. So starting tomorrow, if it’s not your shift in the brewery, Mom needs you out there eating your weight in bugs. Snack lightly tonight and have a quick morning meal so you’ll be in peak condition for duty. I think with the right attitude and positive approach, we can get this under control in two days, tops. Do I have everyone’s support?”
I quickly scanned the bobbing heads for any wet blankets; Not a one.
“I was just saying to Charlotte,” Addie commented, “That we haven’t had a nice spring bowl of grub stew in ages!”
“I LOVE grub stew!” Waffles piped up.
“Okay, okay! It sounds like we’ve reached an agreement. We clear the yard of grass-snagging ghouls and later in the week, feast on a jumbo pot of grub stew.”
“Hey,” Tim injected. “Maybe that’s the name of our next beer label… Grubbers Gruel!”
We all high-winged each other over Tim’s brilliant idea before returning to whatever it was we were doing before I called the meeting. For me, it was trying to get the grape I dropped out of the water dish. I think I’m going to need my waders and fishing gear.