So it was that kind of day. Full of surprises, sort of. The kind of surprises that you just know aren’t surprises. Just that you were unprepared and caught off guard. In other words it’s not a surprise if you should have seen it coming.
I’ve been sick. I don’t mean more or less lately. Just overall, so some things tend to get away from me. Surprising things, really. Today I was hanging around the henhouse looking at Rosie being a big girl chicken, admiring how pretty she is and irritated by how she still treats me with suspicion, as if I were going to suddenly leap to my feet and EAT HER raw. Stupid chicken, I just want to PET HER! she’s so fluffy and cute and all she does is run away. So I’m a little choked by this- yes I can get mad at a chicken, after ALL I’ve done for her!-and there, off in the corner is a baby chick. Tiny little thing with a insanely protective silky mother hen. They are all good moms, silkies. But add good genetically programmed to be a mom chicken and the tension of only having ONE chick? She’s nuts, right now. So I couldn’t even get a good look at that cute little thing (god, I hope it’s not a rooster, please,please please)
I was pleased as anything, love little babies, love chicks, love fresh eggs so I called over to my sister to tell her that Loretta had a baby chick, come look! and it seems Liza knew. She didn’t even tell me! I’m not supposed to be near the henhouse. Bleh…so when Loretta loaded up with her baby, Liza told me our new silky chickens name was Boston.
Seemed like an odd choice to me. Boston? We usually name the chickens after singers. Female singers. We have Joan, Loretta, Nina, Annie, Maria, Britney, you get the idea. Well, naming a tiny little chick after a band seemed ambitious to me. Not that I don’t love Boston. What the hell? They’re Boston. Who doesn’t like Boston. But for a little chick? So she told me that Boston was born the morning of the Boston Marathon. And she had fallen out of the nest box and was cold and, it seemed, dead. She gave Loretta her baby back, so she’d know what happened, (my sister?!-I would have chucked that baby out and that’s that) She went inside, turned on the tv and, like the rest of us, was horrified at what was unfolding in Boston. When she came out after watching the tv footage, there was Little Boston alive a kicking and momma ready on take on all comers. Good momma! Good Liza!
Now if I could just get my hands on that little chick! Just to pet her, she’s so cute. Maybe THIS will be the friendly chicken I’ve been craving…
The other surprise, I found an old story line I’d been working on. And it’s good. It was in an old notebook. I hauled it out so I could use it to manage the garden. We list what was planted where and when, which rows are what, all so that we can, hopefully, identify what is a plant and what is a weed. And know what is germinating and what isn’t. This old notebook contained the outline of a great chick lit story. I don’t know why I didn’t keep it up. Somehow I just set it aside and forgot about it. So, now I have a full bloomed story that’s been sitting on the back burner for, god, maybe 3 or 4 years. It’s very exciting. I love telling stories, especially if a lot of it is based in truth. And lemme tell ya, I’ve had some odd and interesting things happen to me. Who’d believe it? Best to call it a nonfiction book and subset it as chick lit, right?
So it’s a chemotherapy day tomorrow. I’m not even going to say bleh! I have another surprise. My step son, Kevin Jr. Is flying down from Fort McMurray to see me and he’ll be here on Saturday. So nice to see him. He’s such a good boy, well, he’s 26 now. He offered to do all the fix it stuff that needs doing so he’s going to paint the bathroom and dig some holes for potatoes and squash. We’re going to see the Mariners play baseball and maybe go to a blues club…I’m so happy. I didn’t think I would see him even when he said he wanted to come down. I thought it wasn’t necessary. I’m not going to be fun. I have no energy. I’m not able to walk around for long and show him Seattle. It’s not easy flying anywhere from northern British Columbia. But he’s taking the trouble and he shouldnt really. It’s very expensive and he’s going back to school to get his ticket for being a crane operator so that’s coming up too. But I’m happy. He doesn’t mind coming down. And he loves me. I was a good second mom to him.
I should have known he would want to come. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. But such nice surprises, yes?