September 22, 2014 – We held an impromptu party this afternoon to celebrate two major events – the changeover from summer to fall, and a huge order of our micro brews from Sweet Abbey’s Grille, the new pub that’s opening up next week down the street from the bowling alley. Evidently, the owner tasted our Cinnamon Biscuit Ale during a candlepin competition and loved it! We haven’t figured out delivery yet… us being on travel restriction, but that’s a minor issue. It’s time to be thankful for our good fortune and applaud the comeback of corduroy hats and fleece-lined vests. Ahh… who am I kidding? I don’t wear clothes that often. I love autumn for the food. Apples, squash, and anything left over in the garden. I can’t wait to start my mornings with a hot cup of tea and a warm slice of pumpkin bread. My beak is drooling thinking about it!
For today’s soiree, we feasted on corn on the cob, watermelon, spaghetti and the big fat worms we gathered behind the shed. I played my piccolo for the first time in weeks while the Orpington ladies swung each other around by the wing. Waffles did her stand up comedy act. She had us in stitches with this line… “an onion just told me a joke. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” That Waffles sure does have a keen wit.
Peaches recited a lovely poem she wrote that nearly had us in tears.
I look to you
and you are there; always.
Like the sky that welcomes dawn.
Like the stars that guard each roost.
Sometimes I wander in search of something I cannot name
and lose my way.
I look to you
and you are there.
I know she dances to her own rhythm section, but I think Peaches has the biggest heart of us all.
I was having such a lovely time that I nearly missed Rick the postman. I heard his truck and ran to the mailbox. There it was. The envelope from the lab I sent the fingerprint to. In a matter of seconds, I might know the source of Charlotte’s secret gifts – including the map of the buried treasure. I still can’t understand for the life of me why it doesn’t interest her. I guess Lottie is more of an instant gratification type of hen.
My wings quivered under the weight of the package. I hesitated. What was I waiting for?
I heard the stereo start to play. It was the music for the Chicken Dance. My decision was swift and just. I placed the envelope in my nest box and ran to catch up with the flock. The answer can wait another day.