I’ve heard it said that people who can’t get along with other people bond with animals instead. Maybe so. All I know is that these chickens, like other creatures who aren’t built like me, help me see the world differently.
Yes, to all this. I unknowingly moved into a feral cat colony 11 years ago, and have gone from "no names, no food" to offering quality food twice a day. And of course they all have names. A few years ago one male kitten walked into the house after me and stayed--he's been a delight.
Little baby things are so precious - all of them, especially the human variety. There’s just something healing about nurturing and caring for helpless, small critters of any variety. They grow up of course, push you away, insist on doing life the way they think will work. As they do you get to grow too. You get to learn to let them live their own lives, mistakes and all. Puts me in mind of that text, Jesus looking over Jerusalem, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered you as a hen gathers her young, but you would not.”
Over recent months I’ve been reading Joyce Vance’s Substack offering called “Cvil Discourse”. Occasionally she shares pictures of her numerous companion chickens. There are vignettes of their daily activities and interactions with other of the homestead animals. I find that her reports hearten me with her observations of life day to day, chickens just being chickens, no grand plans for amassing ephemeral fortunes or consolidating ill gained power over humans.
Thank you for sharing your experience as a “CCL”!! I’m sure I will reread your essay again, with a smile that you’re out there, ministering to your special flock. 🙏🏼🐣
I so love your stories and what they conjure up in my imagination. We humans are each unique, but I find that love is love, whether it is between humans or across species. Doesn't that just show that the universe is run on love? We will be learning that lesson over a lifetime. Please keep writing!
Took me back to my childhood when one of my jobs was to tend the chickens. One of them was a pet named Charlie. Thanks for the memories and the giggles.
This took me back to memories from growing up on the farm, but most of all it is so refreshing to read a story about love and nurturing rather than all the divisiveness in the world. Thanks for writing.
Hi Barbara, I would love to sit with you in the hen house nursing a martini and visiting the fowl. Thanks for this lovely musing on cherishing the diversity around us.
So enjoyed this. Your expression of otherness near the end immediately “took” me to Holy Envy. A book I’m so grateful you wrote and I got to read. Thank you.
This brings back a favorite memory of when I was teaching first graders back in the 80’s (which really makes me feel old!). My co-first grade teacher and I would incubate eggs before Easter time with our students. They would take turns turning eggs several times throughout the day until we got close to “hatching time.” Joyce and I would take turns going into school over the weekends to keep up with the egg turning. Oh, the joy for all of us when the eggs began to hatch! The kids were so proud of their young brood and the part they took in helping them develop. We kept them for about a week when they would go off to a local farmer to live out their lives. After all, we had other lessons to teach. 😉
My daughter had a wonderful first grade teacher, like you, who incubated eggs for her students. It led to interesting discussions when she came home asking about fertilization:
I explained that all creatures had both a mommy and a daddy who worked together to create a baby. Mommies usually carried the baby and daddies provided the fertilizer.
Never satisfied with one answer, Lily said,
“So did Daddy have to fertilize you to get me?”
“He sure did.”
“So how did he do that?”
“Well, honey, mommies and daddies snuggle together, and the daddy can send the fertilizer into the mommy through his penis.”
“Gross!”
“Not at all, honey. It’s part of being a family. You know how sometimes we all end up in the bed together and we wake up with Charlie’s feet in Daddy’s face, and Mommy has morning breath, and everyone has crazy hair? But it’s kinda wonderful? It’s like that.”
Silence. Wheels turning. Next question.
“So did you have to do it again to get Charlie?”
“Yes, honey, yes, we did.”
More silence as Lily considered how she might leverage this new information, especially to satisfy her desire to have a sister. She raised her eyebrows hopeully and said,
I really appreciated your reply to my comment, especially your explanation to Lily about “fertilization.” It made me wonder if any of my first graders went home with similar questions. 🤭 We tried to bring nature into the classroom whenever we could. I’ve been retired now for 10 years, but it was a treat to relive those memories brought back through Barbara’s lovely essay. God bless! 😊
We had chickens for years. RIRs and then Buff Orpingtons. Joyce Vance and now you. So, I googled the chicken ordinance for where we now live. 10 chickens. No rooster. No free ranging. Hmmm.
You spoke to my heart on this one, I share your love for chickens. We had Dominckers. One rooster and two hens at the start, of course the numbers grew as they got old enough to start laying. Our rooster Doodlebug used to follow my husband around, because Crickets! I know you have a million chicken stories, as do I, but my sincere thanks for brightening the say for us with this.
Yes, to all this. I unknowingly moved into a feral cat colony 11 years ago, and have gone from "no names, no food" to offering quality food twice a day. And of course they all have names. A few years ago one male kitten walked into the house after me and stayed--he's been a delight.
Little baby things are so precious - all of them, especially the human variety. There’s just something healing about nurturing and caring for helpless, small critters of any variety. They grow up of course, push you away, insist on doing life the way they think will work. As they do you get to grow too. You get to learn to let them live their own lives, mistakes and all. Puts me in mind of that text, Jesus looking over Jerusalem, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered you as a hen gathers her young, but you would not.”
Over recent months I’ve been reading Joyce Vance’s Substack offering called “Cvil Discourse”. Occasionally she shares pictures of her numerous companion chickens. There are vignettes of their daily activities and interactions with other of the homestead animals. I find that her reports hearten me with her observations of life day to day, chickens just being chickens, no grand plans for amassing ephemeral fortunes or consolidating ill gained power over humans.
Thank you for sharing your experience as a “CCL”!! I’m sure I will reread your essay again, with a smile that you’re out there, ministering to your special flock. 🙏🏼🐣
I so love your stories and what they conjure up in my imagination. We humans are each unique, but I find that love is love, whether it is between humans or across species. Doesn't that just show that the universe is run on love? We will be learning that lesson over a lifetime. Please keep writing!
Took me back to my childhood when one of my jobs was to tend the chickens. One of them was a pet named Charlie. Thanks for the memories and the giggles.
This took me back to memories from growing up on the farm, but most of all it is so refreshing to read a story about love and nurturing rather than all the divisiveness in the world. Thanks for writing.
Hi Barbara, I would love to sit with you in the hen house nursing a martini and visiting the fowl. Thanks for this lovely musing on cherishing the diversity around us.
So enjoyed this. Your expression of otherness near the end immediately “took” me to Holy Envy. A book I’m so grateful you wrote and I got to read. Thank you.
Thankful for the other-ness of creatures.
This brings back a favorite memory of when I was teaching first graders back in the 80’s (which really makes me feel old!). My co-first grade teacher and I would incubate eggs before Easter time with our students. They would take turns turning eggs several times throughout the day until we got close to “hatching time.” Joyce and I would take turns going into school over the weekends to keep up with the egg turning. Oh, the joy for all of us when the eggs began to hatch! The kids were so proud of their young brood and the part they took in helping them develop. We kept them for about a week when they would go off to a local farmer to live out their lives. After all, we had other lessons to teach. 😉
My daughter had a wonderful first grade teacher, like you, who incubated eggs for her students. It led to interesting discussions when she came home asking about fertilization:
I explained that all creatures had both a mommy and a daddy who worked together to create a baby. Mommies usually carried the baby and daddies provided the fertilizer.
Never satisfied with one answer, Lily said,
“So did Daddy have to fertilize you to get me?”
“He sure did.”
“So how did he do that?”
“Well, honey, mommies and daddies snuggle together, and the daddy can send the fertilizer into the mommy through his penis.”
“Gross!”
“Not at all, honey. It’s part of being a family. You know how sometimes we all end up in the bed together and we wake up with Charlie’s feet in Daddy’s face, and Mommy has morning breath, and everyone has crazy hair? But it’s kinda wonderful? It’s like that.”
Silence. Wheels turning. Next question.
“So did you have to do it again to get Charlie?”
“Yes, honey, yes, we did.”
More silence as Lily considered how she might leverage this new information, especially to satisfy her desire to have a sister. She raised her eyebrows hopeully and said,
“Are you gonna do it again?”
Hi Annie,
I really appreciated your reply to my comment, especially your explanation to Lily about “fertilization.” It made me wonder if any of my first graders went home with similar questions. 🤭 We tried to bring nature into the classroom whenever we could. I’ve been retired now for 10 years, but it was a treat to relive those memories brought back through Barbara’s lovely essay. God bless! 😊
Your headline reminded me of Nancy Luce, the chicken lady of West Tisbury on Martha’s Vineyard. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nancy_Luce
I had 5 buff Orpingtons for years and loved how they ran to greet me ♥️
We had chickens for years. RIRs and then Buff Orpingtons. Joyce Vance and now you. So, I googled the chicken ordinance for where we now live. 10 chickens. No rooster. No free ranging. Hmmm.
You spoke to my heart on this one, I share your love for chickens. We had Dominckers. One rooster and two hens at the start, of course the numbers grew as they got old enough to start laying. Our rooster Doodlebug used to follow my husband around, because Crickets! I know you have a million chicken stories, as do I, but my sincere thanks for brightening the say for us with this.
“…rocking and sipping while the chickens told me about their day.” This line made my day!
I never thought I'd be engaged so much in a story about chickens! Great writing. Made me smile.