Farmer in Springtime
It hasn't escaped my notice that this blogging effort seems to be morphing into a farm journal, an anecdotal accounting of my adventures in agriculture. But for the time being, at least, I can't seem to help it. Not only are today's politics lame, boring, and sadly predictable, little of the other "news" seems to set my interests afire either. The little farm is where my heart is, and the daily exploits of my feathered and furry extended family members are what captures my attention. So, for today at least, hunker down for some more news from Rock's Roost.
Yesterday I had a lot of company in and out of the house, and during one of the rare and brief interludes when everybody was gone, I needed to rush to town to do an errand. I hopped in my car, but was only able to get to the end of the driveway when I had to stop and tend to farming. There, in a patch of grass right next to the busy country lane, sat ten of my baby guinea chicks who had somehow escaped from their nursery pen. As I got out of the car and began attempting to shoo them toward their wired enclosure several hundred feet away, a complete stranger stopped in the street and offered to help.
No thanks, I told him. I've got it under control - and he drove on.
Herding baby guinea chicks is not quite as bad as herding cats, but it's not that simple either. The process involves a lot of jumping from side to side trying to keep the little fuzz balls in a tight formation. Surprisingly, I made it about halfway back to the pen before the group cohesiveness began to dissipate. As we attempted to pass through a large open space that was bordered by bushes on two sides, a few chicks headed left and some others went right - when straight was the direction which I preferred. By the time I got back to the pen, only four remained in the parade - and I did manage to get those back inside.
Then I had to chase down the others one-by-one. Eventually, thirty or so minutes later, I had nine safely returned to the flock and one remaining AWOL. As of this morning, he is still on the lam.
Now, isn't that honestly more interesting than Hillary's emails? Yes, I guess I could be writing about Mike Huckabee's rabid defense of a child molester, Donald Trump's hair, or Jeb Bush's propensity to stick his foot in his mouth every time he opens it, but what's the point? They are just political animals selling their souls for fame and profit, whereas my guineas and other farm creatures are actually serving a purpose and benefiting mankind.
When it comes down to which are more relevant in today's world, politicians or farm animals, it's really a no-brainer!