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Let us begin a new chapter in the Chicken Diction library of knowledge so that we may further educate all the faithful readers of this holy book of fowlish lore...The Inside Coop. After hearing the cries of the local masses I am giving you what all of you want: a probably-weekly but definitely-regular update of the goings-on of life in the near famous backyard of Menlo Park.
1. The chickens have survived the freezes quite well, however Cracker decided to go on a very long sabbatical from egg laying. Fortunately she has come round as of today.
2. One of the Araucanas got loose on Sunday, which was not anywhere near as exciting as one would have expected or even hoped for as he was writing a blog about such an event. It appears that the chicken aviary has become quite a fulfilling home for the five feathered friends in the back, as she hustled right back in as soon as I could manage to open the door and chase her in.
3. Most exciting was what I found in the chicken house today...
...Granted, we hadn't checked for two and a half days.
Well they identified the young man who was shot and killed near my house. Manuel Fimbres-Moreno was 26. He will always be 26. I did not know Manuel - at least that I know of. But I am terribly saddened by his murder and cannot begin to imagine the pain of his family.
They arrested someone on suspicion of killing him. The kid they arrested is 21. Certainly it is not proven that he is responsible, but undoubtedly prison is in his future given the broken beyond repair system of injustice. For me it is simply a furtherance of a terrible tragedy. But this time, more than ever we will be complicate in what takes place as the tax payer funded "justice" system will do everything possible to ensure that no rehabilitation will ever take place.
Are we now safer that a young man will spend years in prison learning how to be more violent, less feeling, possibly drug addicted, and completely removed from his family? And when he returns to our community (96 percent of all Arizona prisoners do) will he have any better idea how to positively impact the people around him? Or will he be hardened, broken, and lacking any real understanding of what responsibility would actually mean in a situation like this? Will he ever have a chance at anything different than just that? These are questions I ask myself, but are never asked when laws are passed and people punished. Whatever happens to this young man, will we as a community be better for the judgment that is made on his life? I am positive we will not. This makes the tragedy of last Wednesday evening even that more horrendous.
Tucson police identify man who was fatally shot last week...
For all of you in Tucson and looking for a little incentive to visit a local farmer's market, here is a fabulous little clip that aired on Channel 12 about the Santa Cruz River Farmer's Market about five blocks north of my house and the University Farmer's Market. They are just some of the many gems here in the downtown area of Tucson. Hopefully you can find the chance to make it to one or the other of these places. Oh yeah, Mari and I happen to be on a few of the clips at the Santa Cruz Farmer's Market...
Last night an unidentified young man was was shot and killed on the street about four houses down from mine. It happened right after Riley and I left for ultimate frisbee practice. Mari heard at least five shots. No one knows who this person is, nor who shot him, other than he drove away in a white truck. I'm not sure what to say about this other than it is a tragedy. This morning I walked down the street and lit a candle by the blood stains in the road. That is all I can think to do right now. But somewhere, a young man didn't come home last night, and another has blood on his hands. I guess we all do in some way. So please, take a moment, and do something thoughtful, something kind.
"Rage. Rage against the dying of the light." - Dylan Thomas
My menthol-cigarette-smokin'-vietnam-vet-bulldog-owning-gossipy- but-well-meaning-chatterbox-of-a-neighbor is worried I am going to end up with a bunch of dyke chickens if I don't get a rooster, and fast. According to him, that is the sole reason I don't have eggs from my nearly seven month old hens who are currently causing me more strife than seems to be worth any amount of fabled eggs that the future holds. Of course when he told Riley that my chickens were soon to have butch-lesbian tendencies and that the certain cure-all was some hardcore chicken testosterone, Riley rightly asked him if he really wanted a rooster waking him up at four in the morning. That seemed to end the stream of consciousness male chicken fix all advise that is not uncommon from the east side of my all too short and none too private chain link fence.
None-the-less, I have yet to figure out a solid solution for chicken quarentine that is badly needed should my neighborly advise turn into griping and complaining as he quickly discovers that my hens have taken a fancy to his clothes-line pole over the already too close fence line. In any case they definitely have NOT laid any eggs yet and my daily threat to eat one of them (Cracker being the most plump - are we surpised at all by this?) have failed to hold any water - perhaps they know just how long and laborious it is to pluck a dead chicken without the convenience of more advanced technology than my fingers. So my porch continues to be graced by chicken shit, my unprotected plants assaulted by soon-to-be dyke chicken beaks, and the beautiful chicken house and shelter that I built neglected like an unwanted rooster amongst five very content hens. Meanwhile the dipper gourd has gone crazy and the mission grape has recovered after too many close encounters with my feathered livestock. The various trees I have planted in the last year are suddenly exploding with the fresh dousing of rain water day after day, making me truly believe in all that I have sown into this flood plain ground of a backyard. And my chickens are in danger of falling in love with each other. I can think of nothing better for my once-desolate-now-blooming-and- fertile-backyard. I hope such opportunity flourishes near you.
It's been nearly a year since I bought this house in Tucson (June 30 to be exact)....which is first and foremost cray-zee! and second of all, surreal and mostly unbelievable. In any case, I have been thinking a lot about the changes over the course of one year here in the bread basket of Tucson (as Menlo Park is sometimes thought of) and trying to remember exactly what it was that I saw in this house last year as I paraded my brother and friends around through the house and into the backyard, searching for some level of excitement close to mine to bolster the insanity that had found its nest in my brain leading me to go into greater debt than I had ever imagined. Needless to say, no one thought of it as much as I did, and to be honest it wasn't them that needed to, but me. So anyways, a year out, home ownership beginning to feel like something I indeed planned for and handle quite well, I have prepared a little montage of pictures showing the "before" (certifiable) and "after" (still crazy after just one year) that will hopefully show some semblance of change, if not even a bit of progress. As for which pictures are the before and after, they are a bit like those weight loss commercials that show the person looking drab and unsmiling for the first shot and then so obnoxiously smiling that they must be high on a whole slew of anti-depressants and steroids, so hopefully you should be able to figure it out. Anyways, here they are...
...Granted, we hadn't checked for two and a half days.
