Wednesday, September 7, 2011

My Husband the Magician

Our summer has come and gone. We've had our share of beach adventures, lightening bug chases and melted ice cream cones. The garden has been chalked up to a learning experience. (I concede to you this year squash bugs, but look out in 2012!) Our beautiful children have grown into new shoes and book bags for the start of kindergarten and third grade. But most impressively as this summer comes to a close I've seen my husband perform a real life magic trick.

As many of you know, back in the spring we started off with a flock five chickens. A rooster and four white hens. Due to, lets say circumstances, we've ended up with two hens and the rooster. Our two remaining hens we call Lovey and Pecky. You can probably guess that Lovey is the more affectionate, and while Pecky is not aggressive she did "peck" a hamburger bun out of Macy's hand and run across the yard with it. If you've never seen a chicken run the 50 yard dash with an entire hamburger bun in its beak, I highly recommend it.

Recently we decided to add two more hens to our little feathered family, since Pecky and Lovey had done so well. These new girls were Rhode Island Reds, beautiful reddish brown with a few streaks of white. Within two days, before we could properly even name the new additions, we were missing two chickens. One red and one white. Our comical Pecky was gone.

Immediately the dog was suspect. After all he had been caught red pawed "playing" with the chickens before. Not to mention he had recently killed and eaten a groundhog, bunny and opossum. It didn't bode well that he was looking particularly healthy through the belly and wasn't eating much of his dog food. With out so much as a trial Buster was tied on his run and the chickens were locked in the coop.

Things went on like this for two days until my husband perfected his magic act. He'd just returned from taking the trash to the dump and was lining the recycling cans up against the garage wall. We keep the trash can lids stacked on the floor for easy access to the cans. This way we can attempt to shoot three pointers with empty plastic bottles from the laundry room door. When Jay lifted up the stack of lids he made a flapping chicken and a pile of eggs appear. Bravo! It's no bunny out of a hat, but I was sure glad to see Pecky. For two days she had been trapped under those trash can lids. We pass by there twenty times a day and she never made a peep. The lids never budged. Was she really trapped the whole time? Or did she magically appear?

Book update: The manuscript is completely edited and I now have queries out to four agents. The waiting game begins!