Busted!

We found this bandit in with the chicks yesterday, chasing them all over the place. Fortunately, they escaped through the hole he dug under the fence. We also found him in with the big girls on three separate prior occasions. But all he was doing was stealing their food. We got him last night. Guilty as sin and with a long rap sheet to boot!

Daredevil Chicks

Chick Flick

Week-old chicks first glimpse of the world

Man with chicken

The Magnificent Magnolias

Too bad the blossoms don't last longer. It seems that every year, right after they bloom, they are doomed to a day of high winds and heavy rains. This year..? So far, so good.

Who's yer mommy?

On the left is a normal size chicken egg. On the right is one we found in one of our coops a couple days ago. We have several bantam chickens, none of which was laying until just recently when the eggs started to trickle in. Then this. Is this the first attempt of a young banty; or did some wild bird decide to make a deposit in our egg bank?

Life is hell

Life is hell

I need a receipt,
the customer said.

You need a receipt
for a single order
of General Tso's chicken?
I asked.

My wife is an accountant,
he said. My life is hell!

You see that extra ten cents?
I pointed at the register tape.
That's the one-percent for green space,
just in case she asks.

That's alright, he said,
as long as I have a receipt.

I could smell the booze.

Everybody thinks their life is hell.
And maybe it is.

But I live with two Chinese women,
each of whom thinks
she knows what's best for me.

If you'd ever lived
with just one Chinese woman
you would marvel
at my dilemma.

Leonard Cohen with sweet & sour sauce

In the kitchen Jimi Hedrix
is stir-frying chords
on the radio.
Out front it's Chinese
love songs piped in
through the stereo.

Jenny's busy in the back,
so I hook up my MP3.

She catches me.

Chinese retaurant supposed
to have Chinese music,
she says. Need atmosphere
for the customers.

Right now, there are no customers,
I say. Besides,
a little Leonard goes good
with Moo Goo Gai Pan.

My teeth chatter

How's this
for modern dentistry?
Stem cells injected
into the gums,
tooth buds that grew
into teeth
that learned to talk
at the age of two.

They keep me up at night
like girls
at a sleepover.
Titter, titter, titter
all night long.

And complain..?
Talk about a toothache...
One doesn't like hot,
another hates cold.
Tylenol, ibuprophin, aspirin
don't do a thing.

Harry, I'm hungry,
left bottom molar says.
Harry, I'm thirsty,
right upper canine begs.
No soda pop! no candy!
the wisdom teeth advise.

I thought this would be
better than dentures,
better than implants,
better than root canals.

But I'm headed back
to the dentist.
It's time
to get them pulled.
Last night they told Mona,
they didn't like her curry.
Too spicy, one said.
Too mild, another chimed in.
Make up your mind, Harry,
Mona complained.

I have a small wooden box.
When they are removed
I will keep them there.
I'll call it my chatterbox.
If ever I want to be reminded
that I should have listened
to my parents,
should have brushed
three times a day
and flossed after every meal,
I will crack open the lid and listen
to my teeth complain.