Cooped Up

Louie had a ball the other day as he chased and bit into the rear tail feathers of a couple of the chickens as they’d gotten out of their enclosure.  Then I noticed one was missing, and it turned out it was grabbed by a predator as there was a trail of feathers over the fence into the neighbour’s large field.

During the chicken-biting melee Louie didn’t listen as I screamed at him to stop attacking, so I had to physically remove him from the hen and carry him into the house, his mouth filled with fluffy white feathers.  The chickens weren’t hurt, aside from the one that was eaten, so now we’re down to six.  Kate and Brave Chicken, my favourite chickens, were luckily not deceased.

But now the hens are cooped up because the heavy snow collapsed their flimsy little chicken wire fence and so they could easily walk over it and escape.  Fun for Louie, but not for them, so they have to stay inside.  It’s warm, and there’s a light on for twelve hours, plus the other day I bought a mirror as I read chickens like them for some reason.

I updated the profile bio on my Facebook page to “A retired old broad who owns cats, dogs and chickens.”  I thought that pretty much sums it up, and I also noticed a section on hobbies, and couldn’t find a way to type in the word thrifting, so picked eating.  Because really, that’s totally a very strong hobby.

As an example, this morning I began the day with eight pieces of bacon and a thick slice of bread made into delicious French toast, all drenched in maple syrup.  Like the chickens we’re all cooped up in this part of the world as it’s cold (minus three today) and dreary so what better thing to do than shovel in a bunch of food?

Margaret visited for three days, and we practiced extreme eating then, too.  The weather was still warm and sunny, so not sure what possible excuse there could be, other than I love to cook.  On the first night I made panko-breaded chicken strips, followed by boeuf bourguignon, and finally wild-caught shrimp in a cream sauce on spaghetti for the final evening.  I’d made iced brownies for our dessert.

Further participation in my hobby included lunch at a restaurant with my pal Sharon, and I always order fries when I’m out, Marilyn and family were here for lunch which included a spinach quiche and fried potatoes, lunch with Ralph at Milestones (more fries) and a Happy Hour at the Eldorado with the Crones two days ago.

And guess what?  I’ve now gained at least eight pounds since summer.  It’d be crazy not to but like a lotto ticket buyer, I have hope.  I think oh please God let me stand on the scale and let it not scare the bejesus out of me when I look down, then GAAAH!  Kind of the worst time of year to be increasing in girth when every part of Superstore is now crammed with Christmas goodies.

Margaret and I are off to Mexico again in February so I’m going to have to hope that’s enough incentive to lose the fat prior to putting on a bathing suit.  But for a procrastinator with eating as a hobby when it’s just November, and when February is so very far away, I’m going to have to keep you posted on this project. Why I bought frozen yogurt bars today I do not know.

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