As I posted earlier, I am reading all things Fitzgerald, combining the faction novel of Zelda Fitzgerald with all of the works that F. Scott wrote as well. (And, in horror, discovered that Zelda was advised to send in her own writing using Scott's name so they could get more money for them.)
Like any narcissist or ego-maniac, Scott doesn't do well if he's not wildly popular and well loved by the masses. What struck me, as I have been delving into this project, is he isn't so much an amazing writer as he is a great marketer.
I am struggling to get through his first novel, I really am. It is like a bunch of things strung together with no real story, more thoughts and events, but no real meat. I have also read that that is exactly what the book is -- and that he did just that, put together journal entries and new writing to create a book as quickly as he could so he could win his bride. Hey, one of my biggest criticisms in school was spending time talking about what the author MEANT when he wrote the book. Drove me crazy, I felt it was a true waste of time, and while I am doing that to a certain level here, it is different in that I am taking many different pieces and drawing a conclusion based on those. Obviously the majority of his work is based on his life or how he perceived his life to be or how he WANTED his life to be. Nothing out of the ordinary there, no, but weave in the time period (the roaring twenties) and also the roles that were defined for women and men which wouldn't and couldn't work in this new flapper world, and what you get are a lot of though-provoking situations.
So here is my premature analysis, as I have only just begun to read all of the material (but I have read a lot of magazine and newspaper articles of the time) and what I have concluded at this juncture is that the Fitzgerald's were reality TV stars of their time. They would have LOVED to have cameras follow them around and report their everyday lives. They thought they were great, they sold that to their friends and acquaintances, they had no idea what they were doing but they didn't care because they found themselves on magazine covers, and that just felt right. They were a product of a society in the midst of change -- and to those housewives stuck at home, their scandalous world was titillating and exciting, and to those men, home from war, starting their new lives and jobs and feeling the weight of all of those responsibilities, it might have given them pause .... ahh, if only I was a creative and able to live off my art and be irresponsible and gay ... all the while knowing that they were in a better place, for parties always end. They just do.
Here is a husband, in the public eye, encouraging his wife, a mere 20-year-old southern girl, to be crazy. They liquored themselves up, they adorned luxurious outfits, and they went out into New York City and traipsed around in public fountains, or made public nuisances of themselves, in reality, but no one cared! Just like that Jersey Shore crew ... it's all pretty disgusting, but it sure makes good TV! And the press followed them because, well, I think we all know by now that that is what the press does! And Scott capitalized on that, and while he may not have been the greatest writer of all time (my opinion of course) he sure as hell was the greatest manipulator of those forces that could be combined to make he and his wife more than. More than they really were, for in the end they were just a man and a woman in a union for better or worse. Not a new story, not a story of the ages, just one that we know about because it was important for HIM to be known.
It would be interesting what he would have done in this time to make a name for himself -- this time being a world flooded with gifted authors, publishers who only care about making a ton of money and could care less about literary achievement, and a world where acting crazy isn't going to make you stand out. At all.
I suspect he would be a nobody, just like you and me. Though I don't consider myself a nobody -- so I've already got that going for me, whereas he did not. He was one of a million regular fellas who figured out how to market himself. Kudos for him. Not sure it worked out all that well, for really he was probably just an alcoholic. But he wrote novels that our parents have read, that we have read, and our children have read, and that is really something, even if that wasn't the reason he wrote at all.
To be continued ...!
Monday, April 22, 2013
Saturday, April 20, 2013
The right to my own opinion
I was just outside, an event that is always met with a flock of chickens hurling towards me in great glee in anticipation of any treats I might have for them. They crack me up, and lately I have been using this to get them into their pen when I leave in the evening, so I don't have to concern myself with them being out after dark.
They follow me quite willingly, and only a few chickens will realize that they are penned in, while the rest are happy to gorge on the treats, oblivious of their surroundings. Those few get irate, they begin to pace around, dart into the coop to see if there is an escape there, and so on, but of course they are safer in their pen and I leave them out all day long, so too bad chickens.
As I walked down there with them all behind me, they followed me into the coop, but this time I didn't lock them in. I was collecting eggs, so they grew bored with the treatless me, and all started running across the yard, busy to get back to whatever they had been doing earlier, and I thought to myself, they really do exhibit happiness when they run in their freedom. The very act of being free to do whatever they want is a part of them.
Over the events of the past week, I wasn't buying into the fear factor that the media loves to build up, I didn't believe after the initial blasts that there would be anything else, only based on common sense. If this was a terrorist act, and by that I mean a non-domestic infiltration of crazy-assed extremists blowing themselves up, then they wouldn't have been happy with a few booms that killed three people and wounded a hundred or so other. I am NOT minimizing this event, let me be clear. I felt the same horror as everyone else did when it happened, only magnified when I received a phone call from my daughter saying she was within a block of the blast and that she was okay (I had no idea that she was there). For a few minutes I let all the could haves wash over me, I panicked a bit at the thought that there were more bombs in the vicinity and that she was in serious danger, and then I realized that the greater threat would be the cops and homeland security, so I told her not to get on a train (it would not surprise me in the least if they shut down trains with hundreds of people trapped in them in the tunnels for hours, weeks, days) and to get out of there as fast as she could, again, not because I thought that she was in any more danger from bombs, but from our own protection services, who would think nothing of trapping people in place for hours. (And this did happen, but she managed to escape it and get out of town, though it took a long time.) But my gut told me the worst had taken place, and I knew also that they would identify them with all of the cameras that are available in this crazy world we live in today. My daughter's college had a bomb threat, I heard of other bomb threats ... but once nothing came to pass, it became clear the fear mongers were at work ... let's get the people in a frenzy, scare the shit out of them and then ...
And then close the whole damn city down and not let people out of their houses and flood the streets with cops and soldiers.
Did you see that coming?
And all for a 19-year-old boy? I mean, the term over-kill doesn't even being to encompass this situation, and while I can certainly get that people were scared at the possibility that they could be shot or blown up, again, King Kong hadn't come to town. It was a 19-year-old boy. Yes, not a very good one, not a very smart one (since he didn't leave town after he killed people) but there are so many things that don't ring true for me. How did this army of cops let this boy get away to begin with? How did they miss him in the boat, that was "beyond the perimeter," when after they had searched all of the buildings within the perimeter, why didn't they go another block, or two or three or four? Was it really worth keeping everyone behind closed doors, when in the end it was a person behind a closed door who discovered the kid?
The news doesn't have a clue ... I get that ... and I am sure all of the "facts" that we know today will be different tomorrow, but the one thing that blows my mind was the willingness of what they are saying was close to a million people to just stop their lives and obey the police. It makes sense, to a certain degree, but a very small one. We have had horrific acts in this country take place before, and we will again, but this new measure of total military/police occupation is scary as shit. Even on the news today there were soldiers standing on the streets. Why? They need to go now, thank you very much, the child has been taken into custody, there is no further indication of any crazies on the loose with pressure cooker bombs, time to pack it in.
Following the arrest was a photograph of a skinny kid, handcuffed and with a bloody face, no explosives strapped around him, and while I have heard reports of gunfire in that vicinity, it seems odd that they wouldn't have killed him once gunfire opened up. Were they shots to create more fear? To underscore the danger of this person, who spent the day in a boat, probably quite oblivious to the fact that the ENTIRE city and surrounding towns had been shut down due to him?
Listen, I am not defending this kid; I just want questions answered, facts proven, motives explained; and that doesn't seem to be a priority -- especially with our news organizations, who will report for as many consecutive hours as they possibly can saying absolutely nothing. But who am I to pick on them, because my ideas and opinions are just as plausible as theirs! We all got them out of the thin air, more or less, it would be possible to string together that tape that PROVES they carried the bombs ... I guess a picture paints a thousand words but these days a picture can be contrived with very little skill. None of us should forget that.
None of us should forget that.
I repeat, none of us should forget that. Whatever you are taking as solid proof is not necessarily so. Here are the facts:
There were two explosions at the Boston Marathon. Three people were killed, many injured.
In the end, that's all we really know. The rest of it ... the rest of it played out like a bad movie, and the pictures of empty Boston streets gave me the chills ... because we're supposed to get the chills .... it feels like ... it just all feels wrong. And while I understand that people stayed in their homes because it was "good for them," I still think our freedom is worth fighting for, no matter how many dangerous 19-year-olds there are running about out there.
And I think the chickens would agree.
They follow me quite willingly, and only a few chickens will realize that they are penned in, while the rest are happy to gorge on the treats, oblivious of their surroundings. Those few get irate, they begin to pace around, dart into the coop to see if there is an escape there, and so on, but of course they are safer in their pen and I leave them out all day long, so too bad chickens.
As I walked down there with them all behind me, they followed me into the coop, but this time I didn't lock them in. I was collecting eggs, so they grew bored with the treatless me, and all started running across the yard, busy to get back to whatever they had been doing earlier, and I thought to myself, they really do exhibit happiness when they run in their freedom. The very act of being free to do whatever they want is a part of them.
Over the events of the past week, I wasn't buying into the fear factor that the media loves to build up, I didn't believe after the initial blasts that there would be anything else, only based on common sense. If this was a terrorist act, and by that I mean a non-domestic infiltration of crazy-assed extremists blowing themselves up, then they wouldn't have been happy with a few booms that killed three people and wounded a hundred or so other. I am NOT minimizing this event, let me be clear. I felt the same horror as everyone else did when it happened, only magnified when I received a phone call from my daughter saying she was within a block of the blast and that she was okay (I had no idea that she was there). For a few minutes I let all the could haves wash over me, I panicked a bit at the thought that there were more bombs in the vicinity and that she was in serious danger, and then I realized that the greater threat would be the cops and homeland security, so I told her not to get on a train (it would not surprise me in the least if they shut down trains with hundreds of people trapped in them in the tunnels for hours, weeks, days) and to get out of there as fast as she could, again, not because I thought that she was in any more danger from bombs, but from our own protection services, who would think nothing of trapping people in place for hours. (And this did happen, but she managed to escape it and get out of town, though it took a long time.) But my gut told me the worst had taken place, and I knew also that they would identify them with all of the cameras that are available in this crazy world we live in today. My daughter's college had a bomb threat, I heard of other bomb threats ... but once nothing came to pass, it became clear the fear mongers were at work ... let's get the people in a frenzy, scare the shit out of them and then ...
And then close the whole damn city down and not let people out of their houses and flood the streets with cops and soldiers.
Did you see that coming?
And all for a 19-year-old boy? I mean, the term over-kill doesn't even being to encompass this situation, and while I can certainly get that people were scared at the possibility that they could be shot or blown up, again, King Kong hadn't come to town. It was a 19-year-old boy. Yes, not a very good one, not a very smart one (since he didn't leave town after he killed people) but there are so many things that don't ring true for me. How did this army of cops let this boy get away to begin with? How did they miss him in the boat, that was "beyond the perimeter," when after they had searched all of the buildings within the perimeter, why didn't they go another block, or two or three or four? Was it really worth keeping everyone behind closed doors, when in the end it was a person behind a closed door who discovered the kid?
The news doesn't have a clue ... I get that ... and I am sure all of the "facts" that we know today will be different tomorrow, but the one thing that blows my mind was the willingness of what they are saying was close to a million people to just stop their lives and obey the police. It makes sense, to a certain degree, but a very small one. We have had horrific acts in this country take place before, and we will again, but this new measure of total military/police occupation is scary as shit. Even on the news today there were soldiers standing on the streets. Why? They need to go now, thank you very much, the child has been taken into custody, there is no further indication of any crazies on the loose with pressure cooker bombs, time to pack it in.
Following the arrest was a photograph of a skinny kid, handcuffed and with a bloody face, no explosives strapped around him, and while I have heard reports of gunfire in that vicinity, it seems odd that they wouldn't have killed him once gunfire opened up. Were they shots to create more fear? To underscore the danger of this person, who spent the day in a boat, probably quite oblivious to the fact that the ENTIRE city and surrounding towns had been shut down due to him?
Listen, I am not defending this kid; I just want questions answered, facts proven, motives explained; and that doesn't seem to be a priority -- especially with our news organizations, who will report for as many consecutive hours as they possibly can saying absolutely nothing. But who am I to pick on them, because my ideas and opinions are just as plausible as theirs! We all got them out of the thin air, more or less, it would be possible to string together that tape that PROVES they carried the bombs ... I guess a picture paints a thousand words but these days a picture can be contrived with very little skill. None of us should forget that.
None of us should forget that.
I repeat, none of us should forget that. Whatever you are taking as solid proof is not necessarily so. Here are the facts:
There were two explosions at the Boston Marathon. Three people were killed, many injured.
In the end, that's all we really know. The rest of it ... the rest of it played out like a bad movie, and the pictures of empty Boston streets gave me the chills ... because we're supposed to get the chills .... it feels like ... it just all feels wrong. And while I understand that people stayed in their homes because it was "good for them," I still think our freedom is worth fighting for, no matter how many dangerous 19-year-olds there are running about out there.
And I think the chickens would agree.
Monday, April 15, 2013
What to read?
I read a lot. A lot, a lot. I always have, and probably always will. I also read like I do most everything -- with single-mindedness. Meaning? I will finish a book that I love as quickly as I can. If it means staying up all night, then so be it. I have a tendency to read "thick" books, because they last longer and I hate to finish a good book. What looks daunting to one reader is a dream come true to me -- the longer the better!
But this voracious appetite for books has cost me. I can't even begin to fathom how much I have spent on books over the course of my lifetime. At one point, it was a given that if I went into a bookstore (and I went in frequently) it would cost me $60. And that sum seemed to hold for years, and that was an armful of books, which was my rule. I never took a basket because I could only buy what I could carry! Otherwise, I wouldn't have ever stopped. I love books that much.
Then of course the e-books came along, and suddenly I didn't have to go to the bookstore anymore. This is like a junky getting an instant fix without ever leaving the confines of their lairs (or where ever they are appeasing their addictions) and well, that sum of $60 went through the roof. There were suddenly NO limitations on the number of books I could purchase, and it is oh so easy, just push a button, and I did. I pushed and I pushed and I pushed. A credit card statement with a long line of AMAZON purchases ... I was out of control.
And I was also disgusted that publishers were charging the same for digital editions of books as they were for hard copies. This is absolutely, over-the-top unreasonable, and well, a perfect thing for them to do because it made building a dam around this addiction much easier. So for a long time (maybe a year?) I have been primarily reading garbage. By that, I mean all the free crap that you can get, and while you will come across a gem or two, for the most part it is pap. It fed me, it appeased my need, but it left me feeling empty. A bad book, even a semi-bad book, is a disappointment, but to keep feeding myself the same stuff? It had to stop. I was gorging on junk food books, and it was starting to affect my complexion (with scowls!)
So I recently began reading Zelda, a novel about Zelda Fitzgerald -- http://www.amazon.com/Novel-Fitzgerald-Therese-Anne-Fowler/dp/1250028655/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366039344&sr=1-1&keywords=zelda -- and became irritated because it is faction -- not a true biography, but a story based on fact. That is a bit annoying too, and got me all mad, so when in the book when I read that Scott Fitzgerald had his first book published, This Side of Paradise, http://www.amazon.com/This-Paradise-Dover-Thrift-Editions/dp/0486289990/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366039473&sr=1-3&keywords=f+scott+fitzgerald -- I thought I would read that. And it was only .99 cents!
Honestly, I am not sure how stringing together a bunch of thoughts and chapters turns into a novel, but it's not very good. But because I am weird, I have decided that I am going to read all of his novels (there are not as many novels as you would think), while simultaneously reading Zelda, and creating this whole new experience for myself! Yeah, straight booking is no longer doing it for me ... I am looking for hard stuff! I have read them all, but years ago when the purpose of reading them was to get through them and remember enough to pass tests. That's no way to read a book, and I was hoping for a more satisfactory experience....but thus far I am reading the book to get through it! Geesh.
Perhaps I am hoping that the fact he was considered one of the top American novelists of his time will rub off on me? I am not sure, but I find it an intriguing endeavor (perhaps fueled by the fact I could download his complete works for ninety nine CENTS. Which basically means I learned nothing about cheap books!)
It must be nice to just pick up a book, read it, and move on. Yeah, I appear to have all of these emotions tied into the deal ... fury over pricing, disbelief at content, inability to NOT finish a book which then fuels frustration ... it's quite the journey.
But when you are immersed in a great book ... oh .... oh.....oh......OH! (I'll have what she's having)
But this voracious appetite for books has cost me. I can't even begin to fathom how much I have spent on books over the course of my lifetime. At one point, it was a given that if I went into a bookstore (and I went in frequently) it would cost me $60. And that sum seemed to hold for years, and that was an armful of books, which was my rule. I never took a basket because I could only buy what I could carry! Otherwise, I wouldn't have ever stopped. I love books that much.
Then of course the e-books came along, and suddenly I didn't have to go to the bookstore anymore. This is like a junky getting an instant fix without ever leaving the confines of their lairs (or where ever they are appeasing their addictions) and well, that sum of $60 went through the roof. There were suddenly NO limitations on the number of books I could purchase, and it is oh so easy, just push a button, and I did. I pushed and I pushed and I pushed. A credit card statement with a long line of AMAZON purchases ... I was out of control.
And I was also disgusted that publishers were charging the same for digital editions of books as they were for hard copies. This is absolutely, over-the-top unreasonable, and well, a perfect thing for them to do because it made building a dam around this addiction much easier. So for a long time (maybe a year?) I have been primarily reading garbage. By that, I mean all the free crap that you can get, and while you will come across a gem or two, for the most part it is pap. It fed me, it appeased my need, but it left me feeling empty. A bad book, even a semi-bad book, is a disappointment, but to keep feeding myself the same stuff? It had to stop. I was gorging on junk food books, and it was starting to affect my complexion (with scowls!)
So I recently began reading Zelda, a novel about Zelda Fitzgerald -- http://www.amazon.com/Novel-Fitzgerald-Therese-Anne-Fowler/dp/1250028655/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366039344&sr=1-1&keywords=zelda -- and became irritated because it is faction -- not a true biography, but a story based on fact. That is a bit annoying too, and got me all mad, so when in the book when I read that Scott Fitzgerald had his first book published, This Side of Paradise, http://www.amazon.com/This-Paradise-Dover-Thrift-Editions/dp/0486289990/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366039473&sr=1-3&keywords=f+scott+fitzgerald -- I thought I would read that. And it was only .99 cents!
Honestly, I am not sure how stringing together a bunch of thoughts and chapters turns into a novel, but it's not very good. But because I am weird, I have decided that I am going to read all of his novels (there are not as many novels as you would think), while simultaneously reading Zelda, and creating this whole new experience for myself! Yeah, straight booking is no longer doing it for me ... I am looking for hard stuff! I have read them all, but years ago when the purpose of reading them was to get through them and remember enough to pass tests. That's no way to read a book, and I was hoping for a more satisfactory experience....but thus far I am reading the book to get through it! Geesh.
Perhaps I am hoping that the fact he was considered one of the top American novelists of his time will rub off on me? I am not sure, but I find it an intriguing endeavor (perhaps fueled by the fact I could download his complete works for ninety nine CENTS. Which basically means I learned nothing about cheap books!)
It must be nice to just pick up a book, read it, and move on. Yeah, I appear to have all of these emotions tied into the deal ... fury over pricing, disbelief at content, inability to NOT finish a book which then fuels frustration ... it's quite the journey.
But when you are immersed in a great book ... oh .... oh.....oh......OH! (I'll have what she's having)
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Confessions of a second-time-around chick mom
They arrived in their small box, peeping away, and I was already in a different place than I had been a year ago, when I had anticipated the arrival of my first-ever 15 baby chicks with much excitement. This time, instead of having their brooder prepared and set up, and all of the accoutrements that they would need in place, I had done nothing! I knew, at the back of my mind that they were coming the first week of April, but it had never actually registered that it WAS the first week of April until I received the email that they were on their way.
Oh shit. I tracked them and realized that they very well could arrive THAT day, and I had done nothing in preparation. I ran around looking for a box to put them in, because of course I did not neatly stow away all chick-shit in an easy and convenient place. The feeders were mired deep in frozen mud in the run because you know, I should have picked them up months earlier, but never got around to it, then snow buried them ... there was always time. So there I was kicking at them to loosen them from their deep earth home, wondering how I was so irresponsible! Then I went to every place, high and low in this rather large house and garage and cellars, looking for the dog cages. Where did they go? Did Peter get rid of them? I jumped into the car to go to Concord to get food, because the food that I had stored away in the green house had been chomped by mice over the winter. Bag was empty. I mean, really?
Several hours later I had a temporary set-up in place, as the dog cages were still hiding and Peter said he wasn't sure where they were, and the call came shortly thereafter that they were on their way. This time the post office delivered them to my door, how nice! I opened the box and quickly saw one was not in a good way, and while I attempted to show the more livelier ones how to drink water, I picked up the limp form and realized that its eyes weren't open. I put them in their small box under a heat lamp and ran to the computer to see what to do. The information I was reading didn't look promising, and within several hours the little thing went through death throes, literally, started rolling around and gasping, and then it died. Well, that was pleasant, I thought to myself, as I scooped it out of the box and wondered what the heck to do with it.
I didn't want to handle the surviving four chicks much, as who knew if they were all going to die as well, and so I just listened to them peeping loudly for hours and asked myself more than once WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!
Okay, here is what I was thinking. Last year I did loads and tons of research on chickens. I am a bit of a chicken expert at this point, like it or not, and the best way to keep a flock laying is to constantly add to it every year. I had ordered the five new chicks in the winter, because I wanted the easter eggers, which are wildly popular and sell out immediately because they have a wonderful temperament and they lay green and blue eggs. Who wouldn't want such variety in their flock! But after I put in the order, sometime in December, I pretty much forgot about them as I had crucial matters such as keeping the water from freezing in the coop for the existing flock. What I failed to do is come to the realization that you can't take a bunch of baby chickens and throw them in with an existing adult flock. It seems so obvious, and yet, no, I did not take that into consideration when ordering them. Thank heavens they aren't elephants! And having four baby chicks versus 16 is like night and day, and I will always keep new additions to a minimum because it is so much easier.
But I just don't have the time for them, poor second child chicks! I was hell bent on socializing my first flock, and I was wildly successful. When I go outside they come running for me with utter joy! MOM! But this morning I tried to "play" with one of them, and the bunch scurried to the back of the cage and clearly felt in danger. No MOM! here, but danger danger Will Robinson. I grasped one gently and attempted to pet her, but she wanted OUT and was screeching and struggling in my hold. Geesh. I put her back and closed the cage door and told them fine, you know what? I don't care if you are socialized. There is no way I was handling 16 chicks on a daily basis, and they turned out all right, and I walked away. To the computer, to tell on them!
Oh shit. I tracked them and realized that they very well could arrive THAT day, and I had done nothing in preparation. I ran around looking for a box to put them in, because of course I did not neatly stow away all chick-shit in an easy and convenient place. The feeders were mired deep in frozen mud in the run because you know, I should have picked them up months earlier, but never got around to it, then snow buried them ... there was always time. So there I was kicking at them to loosen them from their deep earth home, wondering how I was so irresponsible! Then I went to every place, high and low in this rather large house and garage and cellars, looking for the dog cages. Where did they go? Did Peter get rid of them? I jumped into the car to go to Concord to get food, because the food that I had stored away in the green house had been chomped by mice over the winter. Bag was empty. I mean, really?
Several hours later I had a temporary set-up in place, as the dog cages were still hiding and Peter said he wasn't sure where they were, and the call came shortly thereafter that they were on their way. This time the post office delivered them to my door, how nice! I opened the box and quickly saw one was not in a good way, and while I attempted to show the more livelier ones how to drink water, I picked up the limp form and realized that its eyes weren't open. I put them in their small box under a heat lamp and ran to the computer to see what to do. The information I was reading didn't look promising, and within several hours the little thing went through death throes, literally, started rolling around and gasping, and then it died. Well, that was pleasant, I thought to myself, as I scooped it out of the box and wondered what the heck to do with it.
I didn't want to handle the surviving four chicks much, as who knew if they were all going to die as well, and so I just listened to them peeping loudly for hours and asked myself more than once WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!
Okay, here is what I was thinking. Last year I did loads and tons of research on chickens. I am a bit of a chicken expert at this point, like it or not, and the best way to keep a flock laying is to constantly add to it every year. I had ordered the five new chicks in the winter, because I wanted the easter eggers, which are wildly popular and sell out immediately because they have a wonderful temperament and they lay green and blue eggs. Who wouldn't want such variety in their flock! But after I put in the order, sometime in December, I pretty much forgot about them as I had crucial matters such as keeping the water from freezing in the coop for the existing flock. What I failed to do is come to the realization that you can't take a bunch of baby chickens and throw them in with an existing adult flock. It seems so obvious, and yet, no, I did not take that into consideration when ordering them. Thank heavens they aren't elephants! And having four baby chicks versus 16 is like night and day, and I will always keep new additions to a minimum because it is so much easier.
But I just don't have the time for them, poor second child chicks! I was hell bent on socializing my first flock, and I was wildly successful. When I go outside they come running for me with utter joy! MOM! But this morning I tried to "play" with one of them, and the bunch scurried to the back of the cage and clearly felt in danger. No MOM! here, but danger danger Will Robinson. I grasped one gently and attempted to pet her, but she wanted OUT and was screeching and struggling in my hold. Geesh. I put her back and closed the cage door and told them fine, you know what? I don't care if you are socialized. There is no way I was handling 16 chicks on a daily basis, and they turned out all right, and I walked away. To the computer, to tell on them!
If I am a failure as a second-time-around chicken mother, then so be it! The little problem I created by ordering chicks without a plan? We need ANOTHER COOP! There is no way these little guys will be the same size as the adult chickens for months! And there is no way they are staying in the house for months, because they are already starting to smell. (Another thing I forgot ... farm animals in your dining room is a temporary measure!) They have already begun flying, with their teeny little wings, and another time when I opened up the door to change their water, one saw the opening and flew right at my face. Yikes. It will be interesting to see whether these new guys will come running to me, instead of cowering in the corner ... but the truth of the matter is, I don't care and will not take it personally, for they are, after all, BIRDS!
Here chicky chicky!!!!!
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