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Made 'em stay in the henhouse all day. I shored up a couple spots I thought it was remotely feasible the escape artist could squeeze through and dig up the garden for worms and grubs... and berries and ripening tomatoes... general chicken mayhem. And despite the extra squawking and flapping, it was generally restful not having to go out for head counts ten times a day.
And I came across this snippet from what looks like one of the Chans. It describes my shopping cart behavior. I can't seem to help myself. I'm always appalled by the array of carts in various states of inconvenience all over the parking lots of supermarkets. So I will grab the nearest one and push it into the store to lessen the number of strays some kid has to round up.
There must've been once when I didn't take my cart back to the cart parking place, but it was maybe only when someone going in offered to take it. Not only that, at least half the time I feel compelled to organize the cart pens so it's easier for people to get to them.
It's as though people resent paying for food SO much they take it out on the whole world, or maybe they feel SO entitled for having paid that they fling courtesy to the wind so everyone else suffers.
I never looked at it as though this classifies me as someone who can handle the rigors of self-governing, which of course I can, but it was nice to know someone out there admires it.
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And, goddammit! They haven't been free to roam their yard for an hour and already The Escape Artist was out and into the garden. More shoring up of not very suspicious squeeze out spots. I seriously don't want to have to hold her down and try to clip her wings without hurting her. Shit.
pipe up any time....
