July 20, 2014 – Waffles strode by while I was kicking up dirt on a patch of ground Mom had just turned over. She was giving attitude with her wings and walking with a certain swagger while her beak was in full motion. I stopped pulling on the worm I had uncovered to listen in on what she was saying to herself.
“In the city, the chicks are pretty, but not as witty as in my town; look around. I’m no farmer; I’m a charmer, that’s how I roll, yo… I’m like a sweet-eyed doe who lays the eggs down, before it’s sundown, in my hometown, I’m a hen. Word.”
Good Lord, she’s engaged in rap.
“Waffles!” I sprang from my garden spot and hollered after her.
“Oh! High, Hap!” she replied cheerfully.
“Whatcha doing….” I asked innocently.
“Nothing much,” she said lightheartedly. “Just freestyling. Did you need me for something?”
“Nope – I’m good. Carry on.”
And she did. She rapped around the duck house, behind the shed, beside the smelly bush and over the yoga rock. I watched in absolute amazement. You think you know someone and then you realize you don’t know them at all. It’s not a bad thing. It made me realize how wonderfully complicated and unique we each are.
I strapped on my colander helmet and headed back to the garden.