"they say the owl was a baker's daughter. lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be." (Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 5)
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Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Chicken Crossed the Road
Sometimes, my dad likes to ride his Harley up to New Hampshire to visit with the boys. Sometimes, a herd of chickens likes to waltz into my driveway and make themselves comfortable in my backyard. Just ask my dad. He witnessed it with his very own eyes. From where do these larger-than-life chickens come? Impossible to say. Why did these larger-than-life chickens cross the road? Well, I still don't know the punchline to that riddle. Check out the snap shot above. After scratching up my entire backyard, they settled in under the deck, to nest on top of the many stray wiffle balls that can be found there. Welcome! And PS: those aren't eggs!
It was also Easter ... which is kind of funny when you think about it, because I had just hardboiled 2 dozens eggs for fancy decorating fun, and I could have conceivably hardboiled 2 dozen more depending on the stamina and productivity of my newly registered tenants. If nothing else, we could have had some very pretty wiffle balls in our Easter baskets on Sunday morning.
Speaking of Easter baskets, even Carli got in on the fun and participated in our outdoor egg and easter basket hunt. I didn't make it too tricky for him, and I even waited for him to brew a cup of coffee before forcing him in to the fun. "Shut up and have fun!" Isn't that what my mom always said? (hee-hee)
Although we were adorned in a far cry from our Sunday best (who wants to be in their Sunday best when the chance of a surprise attack of filthy fowl in one's own side yard has risen to a red alert of terror?), we cleaned up real nice to spend the afternoon with our families. We had a grand time, and hats off to Auntie A for organizing a 50 egg hunt, and for Grandma for making those delicious cheese potatoes. A slight tip of the hat to the Celtics who managed to win, but only after blowing a 22 point lead in the last five minutes of regulation play. Lame.
And last, if you are either of the two people that I have actually crawled out from underneath my avalanche of details and red tape to speak with in the last three weeks, I might have mentioned that I am entirely obsessed with the song Kandi, by One eskimO. Maybe, you will be too?
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