February 7, 2015 – All of this snowfall is cramping my mojo. How can I get anything done when I spend all of my time shoveling our walking path and shaking ice clumps from the hood of my snorkel jacket? I should have had a dozen new beer flavors ready for our Spring line by now. Mom’s blog – the one she put me in charge of, should have unveiled its new format days ago. Don’t even get me started on my inability to conduct winter experiments. Everything was in place for me to reveal the mystery of where worms go when the ground freezes. Are they suspended in dirt or do they pop up on the other side of the world? Instead of submitting a white paper to Poultry Scientific Magazine, these dagblasted blizzards have made fieldwork impossible.
I was bundled in my outerwear, contemplating what to do about it all, when Sawyer walked up to me with a steaming serving of dandelion tea.
“Here, drink this up. It will remind you of summer.”
I wrapped my potholder mittens around the china teacup and let the steam warm my face before taking a sip. Sawyer was right. It tasted like a day in June.
Before I had a chance to thank her, she pulled a newspaper out from under her wing.
“Did you read this yet?” she asked.
“Read what?” I replied.
“There’s an open position in next month’s election that no one has signed up for. Town officials are looking for a citizen to step forward and accept the challenge. Whoever does will most likely be running unopposed and have an excellent shot at winning the post. I think you would be perfect for it!”
“What office are you referring to?” I inquired.
“Library Trustee. It’s a six-year term. Hap, do you know what this means? If you get elected, you’ll be part of the Library Board! You can help set policy. You can ensure that the library is inclusive for all farm animals!”
“Six years?!” I pondered. Do chickens live that long? I’ll be four years old this year.
It was a tempting proposition, but what about my to-do list?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sawyer continued before I had a chance to argue. “It’s not that time consuming. The Board meets at the library once a month in the evening.”
“I think Mom will give you a pass when she realizes that you’re a hen of the people, don’t you? I bet you could even get her to drive you in the van!”
“Or… I could take the Vespa,” I quipped. “It’s quite continental, and I read in the library that we live on a continent.”
“In the warmer weather, yes,” she said nodding. “So what do you say? Do you want to sign up? All it takes is a quick trip to the Town Hall. We can go on Tuesday, after the snow stops.”
I should have my head examined, agreeing to such a thing. I have no business seeking out additional responsibilities when I can’t complete what’s already on my plate. But the thought of me becoming an elected official sent a tingle through my body. A tingle I haven’t felt since I pulled a 2 pound night crawler out of the herb garden. I was invigorated!
“I’ll need help with my chores if I decide to take this on,” I mused. “Maybe Waffles can help with Mom’s blog and you and Peaches can help me in the brewery. Then there are the harp lessons I was going to sign up for online. I suppose I can push them off until next winter. No competition, you say?”
“As it stands now, you’d be the only name on the ballot,” she assured.
I drew a steadying breath.
“Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll run for Library Trustee. Tuesday morning, we’ll drive over to the Town Hall and I’ll throw my hat into the ring. What do you think? Baseball cap or colander helmet?”
“Definitely, colander helmet,” she laughed, clapping her wings in approval. “I’m going to tell the others! We need to make posters and hold a rally! I’ll call over to Mrs. Turner’s farm and bring Rosemary and Gertrude on board. We’ll bake blueberry scones and pass them out at the library entrance. We’ll even have t-shirts made with your face on the front. This is going to be superb!” she squealed.
“So I take it you’ll be my campaign manager?” I laughed.
She pulled me into a warm embrace. “I am so proud of you! Just think… my hatchmate is going to be a Library Trustee. Who would have thought it!”
Sawyer took off to share the news, but I lingered on my thinking log. It didn’t matter that I would be running unopposed. I’d still need a campaign slogan. Something catchy that sticks in your head. Eh! I’ll worry about that tomorrow. It’s starting to snow, and a warm slice of banana bread is calling my name.