Saturday, July 23, 2022

Trauma, Drama, Pizza And The Patriarchy


I did not even open my eyes until ten this morning. I was so shocked! I rolled over and looked at Jack and said, "What the fuck, dude?" as if he had anything to do with my slothful behavior.
He was not perturbed. 
I jumped out of bed, immediately aware that what I was feeling was shame. SHAME! It was absolutely drilled into me as a child that no one but sluggards and the most despicable creatures sleep past eight. "I'm so behind!" I thought and then I thought, "On what?" 
I mean really. I had no schedule today. I had no timeline to follow. 
However, despite the fact that I've been sternly lecturing myself all day long on how it is absolutely fine to sleep late every now and then, I still feel guilty. 
I will never outgrow that, I'm afraid. 

I slept late because I did not go to bed until late. I had made that pizza you see above (no pizza delivery in Lloyd) which took quite awhile but since there was no one here starving for his supper, I took my time with the chopping and slicing and the making of the sauce. 
It was (and is- there is a lot left) a very fine pizza. 
And while I was eating my delicious pizza, I decided to re-watch "Nanette" on Netflix and I did and it was amazing once again and then I had to clean up the kitchen and then I had to take my shower, of course, and then I had to read for awhile. 
Again- of course.
So by the time I turned out my light it was quite late. 

Now the one thing I was really behind on was letting the chickens out of the coop so I hurried out there and when I opened the door to the hen house I found something quite disturbing. 
No, it was not a dead Darla, it was this.


A whole bunch of barred rock feathers. Far more than molting would cause. My one remaining barred rock, whom I call Annie, was nowhere in sight. 
Jesus. 
And the other chickens, who were in the coop which is connected to the hen house with a run, did not want to walk through the hen house to get out which is what happens when something traumatic has occurred in there. 
At that moment, I saw Annie and she looked fine and she has acted fine all day long so I have NO idea what got in there and attacked her but obviously, something did. The door was shut so whatever it was must have somehow gotten through the little space between the coop door and the door frame. I guess. And why didn't it take Darla who was right there on the ground, far more defenseless than Annie? 
Chicken mysteries. They do abound. 
So anyway, I fed and watered them, gave Darla more food and water near where she was laying. She is still alive, still moving about from one spot to another. Last night two of her bebes were sleeping right beside her when I shut them up. 


I know that whatever happened in there last night must have been very traumatic and stressed her out even more but she is still with us. 

I did a tiny bit of mulching in the garden and then picked green beans and more field peas. It was sunny and hot and I could not take much more than that. It has rained some this afternoon which has helped with the heat but by the time things had cooled off some, I was already well-invested in sitting on the couch and shelling peas and watching Hannah Gadsby's other Netflix special, "Douglas" which I am not sure I'd ever seen before. It was not nearly as heavy and hard as "Nanette" but she still pulled no punches and I think she's a genius and I love her. 
It's funny how the older I get (do I say this in every post now?), the more aware I am of how the patriarchy and misogyny have, and still do, affect the lives of women in such deeply injurious ways, mine included. My husband gets quite defensive when I speak of these things to him and I doubt he could watch an hour of Hannah Gadsby without feeling hugely uncomfortable although of course, he would never knowingly act in a patriarchal or misogynistic way. What I try to explain to him is that these things are so deeply ingrained in our culture that even women do not always recognize them but just accept that things are the way they are because...well...that's the way they are. Gadsby shines lights where lights are needed and she is not afraid to say what should be said. She appears to be fearless but I think she's probably mostly just incredibly brave. I want to try to be braver myself. In which case I will probably be called a shrew or a bitch or whatever else our culture labels women who speak the truth are called. I'm sure I could ask Hannah Gadsby as she has no doubt been called them all. 
**********

I just took a picture of Annie on the kitchen porch, hanging out with some of her sisters in the drizzle we're getting now. 


Like I said- she appears to be fine. I truly hope she is. And I hope that whatever got into the hen house has decided that another attempt would be a bad idea. 

Love...Ms. Moon



26 comments:

  1. Chicken mysteries. I guess time will tell.

    I really like Hanna Gadsby. One time my husband, a very large, white man, was complaining that nobody listens to him. I tore a strip off of him and told him he should try being a woman, or a black woman, or an indigenous woman. He has no idea how much he has benefitted from patriarchy because he is a part of it and is too close to see the damage it does.

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    1. I find myself trying to protect and ease my husband into understanding. Part of me wishes I could just let it rip. I realize that I, too, am part of the patriarchy when I act this way.

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  2. White men simply have no idea of their privilege because to them it's everyday life. If you never have to think twice about walking alone, never encountered cat calling, being ignored, interrupted, you have no way to know what that's like every day. Even the nicest men don't.

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    1. You are absolutely so right. They have no idea because they've never experienced anything different than what they've always known.

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  3. Huh.. Mysteries in the hen house.
    And yes, I'm noticing misogyny now more and more in tv shows that previously would probably have rolled right over me. Have I just woken up finally, at this late date?

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    1. I don't know, Marty, but it would seem that I sure have.

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  5. I've been making pizzas lately myself, with diced heirloom tomatoes from my garden, and my husband thinks it's the best thing he's ever eaten--until the next meal I cook. :) It's so nice to have someone to cook for who appreciates it so much! Your pizza looks way better than mine

    Gregg also gets a little defensive when I talk about the patriarchy and misogyny. I guess he feels like it reflects badly on him, as a straight white male of his age. But of course, it doesn't and I don't blame him personally for it.

    I hope whatever frightened the hens is over or gone, now.

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    1. I would say, "Poor men," but honestly- even if they don't understand, they really should try to. I wonder if it's even possible.

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  6. I love the amazing Ms Gadsby. She is such a natural, genuine person. Your comments on her writing have given me an aha moment. I need to think on this.
    I hope the chooks don't have anymore unwanted visitors. I don't know your wildlife so cannot even begin to imagine what critter snuck in.

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    1. Hannah Gadsby has given me a great many aha moments. I am grateful to her for this. I truly am.
      We have so many different predators here. Possums, raccoons, rats(?).

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  7. Dennis knows that he better get smart quick about the "weaker sex". He has stepped up! Reminders on the fridge door! Well now you have lovely feathers for your feather jar- for artwork or whatever you come up with. They are pretty amazing feathers.
    That pizza is outrageous!! OMG ! The best thing I have seen all day!

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    1. You are right about the feathers- I should collect them and save them.
      I am proud of you for educating Dennis. All of our men, no matter who dear and wonderful truly have no idea.
      I have to tell you that the pizza was absolutely delicious.

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  8. Could the feathers just be an "extreme" moult because of the heat? that wouldn't have stressed the other chickens though. Would Darla's babies attack Annie to protect Darla? I hope not.

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    1. No. I think it absolutely had to be a predator given how hesitant the chickens were to come back through the hen house the next morning.

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  9. I came of age on the cusp between women requiring a husband's permission and not. I never bothered to understand (it was incomprehensible) and so would be embarrassed when I would show up without my permission slip. The worst time was the mortgage. Long ago, now, and best forgot. But we need to remember and not let it happen again.

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    1. I remember when my mother got divorced in 1986 that she had to go to great lengths to get a credit card on her own. This stuff is real. Let's not even go into how GYN's wouldn't even begin to contemplate giving a woman a hysterectomy or tying her tubes unless her husband agreed.

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  10. Some days I could despair when I think back the last 45 years to my own activism (Reclaim the Night rallies etc.), me teaching my daughter how to hold the keys between fingers when walking home after dark and knowing that eventually she has to show this to my granddaughter. When do we as mothers capitulate and tell our daughters that the world is not a safe place for them? When they are toddlers, teenagers? Do we even tell them or is it ingrained in our behaviour? Where are the fathers and the brothers? Why do we let them stay out of it?

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    1. Why DO we, Sabine? I think that it has something to do with how women are taught to believe that we must "protect" men from women's problems, whether of the reproductive sort or the constant, every-day threat of some sort of attack, verbal or physical. We have got to stop doing that.

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  11. Is it possible that one of those young roosters attacked Annie?

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    1. No. I do not think so. Chickens go into such a coma state at night that I can't imagine the young roos attacking a hen while in it.

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  12. I have the same problem sleeping in. And the same guilt on the few mornings I wake up and it's 8:00 am or later. I agree that we'll never get over it. Sheesh.

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    1. And why? So what if we sleep late? Sheesh, indeed.

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  13. That is very strange, about Annie. Like Claudia I wonder if one of the other chickens attacked her?

    I probably delude myself by believing I'm not quite part of the patriarchy because I'm gay, and the patriarchy hates gay people as much as it oppresses women. (I once heard Gene Robinson, the former Episcopal bishop, argue that the oppression of gay people is in fact rooted in misogyny -- not that gay men are women, but they are viewed by the straight male patriarchy as weaker and therefore more "feminine," and therefore, like women, become targets.) But I know as a white man I still have many privileges, including many I'm probably not even aware of. I try very hard NOT to be defensive on this subject because I firmly believe it's all true.

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  14. I never feel guilty about the few times I sleep in. Mostly it just surprises me. Glad that Annie fought off her attacker.

    I laid down the law when Marc and I first started going out. I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn't do double standards, that whatever was good for him was good for me and vice versa, that he was not and never would be the boss of me or my daddy. I surely thought that we were on our way beyond the patriarchy but it appears not. Two steps forward and one back is still progress I guess.

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  15. You need one of those motion-detector cameras in there to watch the action going on. I always want to sleep late but never do. Pisses me off.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.