She Was Trying To Protect Her Head By Jumping On Mine

Well, I had a new experience tonight. Miss Betty flew up and landed on my head. Damn- where IS the camera when you need it?

I had gone out to let her into the hen house which is our routine. I let her out in the morning and back in in the evening so that Sam doesn't attack her. It's been working well. Her head is almost healed and usually, at least a few of the other hens want to go out with her so she's not a complete outcast. I don't put her back in the hen house until the other chickens have gone to roost because when they go to bed, they become almost comatose and Sam lets her settle in unmolested.

Tonight she didn't want to go in and it was cold and I had to go turn on all the outdoor spigots and sprinklers and I grew a bit impatient and urged her in the door before she wanted to go. I closed the door and sure enough, I heard a shriek and a ruckus. I opened the door back up again and Sam was off the roost and chasing her. She took wing and landed right on top of my head.

What could I do but laugh? It didn't hurt a bit. In fact, it was oddly pleasurable, having Miss Betty on top of my head like a very soft, warm hat.

But I knew we couldn't stay that way- me with a chicken on my head- and so I went to lift her off and she flew up to the roost and I shoved her to the back of one of the nesting boxes where several other nice fat hens were already settled in so that Sam couldn't get her and she could be warm. I gave him the evil eye and said, "You leave Miss Betty alone," and he gave me the evil eye back but he settled down.

I closed the door and waited for a bit, but all was quiet and I went on to turn on the sprinklers and spigots to let the water run so it won't all freeze up and bust our pipes as we say around here.

I know I've been talking way too much here about how cold it is but golly! We're not Yankees and our blood is thin. And we're not supposed to have a night with temperatures reaching as high as the thirties for a week! A WEEK I TELL YOU! This really is abnormal for us. We get those dipping-down nights but usually, after a day or two, the temperature rises back into the more humane regions and we all breathe a sigh of relief and get on with our lives. We don't even have the wardrobes for this sort of weather. It's like when the temperatures get into the nineties up in Connecticut and no one has air-conditioning and people start dropping like flies.

I just have to say I am eternally grateful for the lovely central air and heat unit we have. As old and drafty as this house is, it gets pretty toasty. And so here I sit wearing my Goodwill cashmere feeling cozy and fine, knowing that even though Mr. Moon is out of town tonight I will sleep well with little Zeke cuddled up in the bed next to me. He's small but warm. And I'll think of Lily and Owen and Jason in their bed tonight, all asleep under the covers together, Mr. Baby nursing when he takes the notion, Lily holding him close. If there is anything cozier than sleeping with a nursling, I do not know what it is.

We had such a good time with him today. We took him to lunch and he wore real shoes like a real human and then we went to Target and I took him into the garden center briefly and told him that he better get used to the smell of fertilizer because he's going to be visiting lots of nurseries with his Grandmama and that when he grows up and I'm gone, whenever he smells fertilizer he will think of me. May was a bit appalled when I said this, but it's true. I hope.

It's cold tonight but spring will come some day and Owen and I will stroll around the plant nurseries together and he will smell dirt and green things and fertilizer and then I'll bring him out here and he'll smell more. I'll teach him to plant seeds in the ground and every time he comes over he'll be excited to see how much they've grown. And I just realized that we're going to have to let one of the hens hatch us some eggs so that Owen can watch them grow up, too because I want him to know all about chickens and where they come from. He's already seen them having sex but I don't think he really knew what he was seeing. He will one of these days, though. He'll watch Sam or Elvis jump on one of the hens and he'll say, "Grandma, why's Sam on top of Daffodil?"
And I'll say, "Ask your mama."

Who knows, maybe someday a chicken will even fly onto his head. And I hope he'll laugh because he'll know the chickens so well that they won't scare him one bit. That he'll find the idea of a chicken on his head to be completely delightful.

Stay cozy y'all. I know it's cold where most of us are tonight. But I know that most of us have heat and blankets and warm food for our tummies and some of us have babies or dogs or lovers to cuddle up with and isn't that the definition of riches?

I think it is.

Stay warm. And if you ever have the opportunity to have a chicken jump onto your head, I'd say go for it.