June 30, 2014 – Somehow we have reached the last day of June. The month went by so quickly, I thought to myself as I tore the outdated page from the calendar that hangs inside our coop door.
“I hope July’s weather is just as nice as June’s,” I remarked to Sawyer. I straightened the calendar and took a look at the new image. It was a harp seal sunning itself on an enormous boulder with a muddled view of the ocean in the background.
“I hope July goes by slowly so we can still sit out on the coop steps at night and enjoy the fireflies dancing over the pine branches,” she replied.
“Don’t forget Independence Day celebrations are coming up,” Tim interrupted. “You know what that means!”
“Oh my goodness,” I exclaimed. “I nearly forgot! I’ve got to schedule a safety meeting immediately! Last year the fireworks took us by surprise. They’ll be no unexpected bolts from the blue this go around. We’ll be ready! In fact, I think as the official safety coordinator, I may just have the entire flock wait out the pyrotechnic display from the quiet and safety of the garage clubhouse.”
Tim and Sawyer nodded their heads in agreement. I stood back and beheld the image of the seal who seemed completely disinterested in being named the official representative for the month of July. We could do better.
“I want to make a calendar,” I said out loud.
“Excuse me?” said Tim, not sure he had heard me correctly.
“I want to make a calendar,” I repeated; “one that features our flock. We can do a much better job than the sea creatures inside this one. Take a look at August,” I said flipping a month ahead. “It’s a couple of lobsters on a serving tray. How can they convey the spirit of summer? They’re not even alive! We have the zest, we have the showmanship and we look good photographed.”
“I agree, but who is going to take the pictures?” Sawyer questioned. “Dumpling Longfeather is in the clink and we don’t know any other photographers.”
“Good point,” I mused. “I’ll work on finding us one if you two wouldn’t mind polling the crew to see which month everybody wants. Then we can have a creative meeting and design the shots.”
“I like it!” Tim said hopping down from his roost. “We can distribute them to our beer customers.”
“Why don’t we talk it over while we’re holed up in the garage during the firework display,” Sawyer added. “It will keep our minds off of being attacked by Roman Candles.”
It was a plan. July was looking up. Already we have a yard sale to schedule and a calendar to produce for next year. I jotted down both notations in the white space next to the seal sunning itself on the rock.
“You look good, my friend,” I said leaning into the photograph, “but our calendar is going to blow you out of the water. Figuratively speaking, that is. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
Oh yah… this is turning out to be a summer for the memory books.