Thursday, April 30, 2009
MK's colleague D has a chicken, Fluffy. D's husband built a small chicken coop, big enough for four or five chickens, but so far they have just Fluffy and a rooster, unnamed because he is not long for this world. D has started giving us eggs. On Friday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings I make MK a fried egg sandwich with cheese and serve it on a bagel. Heh, I should tell the story of my disastrous attempts at making my own bagels. MK and her sister actually ate the failed bagels, which blew my mind because they were like dough bombs. I'll attempt bagels again soon, I'm sure. Failure never stops me from trying. In fact, I'm usually surprised when I succeed!
Back to the eggs, I would love to have a chicken coop of my own. Of course where I live there's an ordinance against owning chickens dating back a hundred years because of rat infestation. Rats love chicken scratch, and eggs, and chickens. Oh, who am I kidding, rats will eat cement, and their own kind. Even at the risk of attracting rats, I would like a chicken coop with about three chickens. No roosters, if I can get away with not having one. They crow all day long, loudly. They make you want to hang them upside down and slit their throats, which is the fate of Mr. Nameless at D's once her husband gets the nerve to do it.