“Positive thinking is like a muscle that gets stronger with use. Stay positive.” ~ Unknown
not a hen
“Junior, go get the rooster and roll him out to the road.” I don’t believe rooster makes good eatin’, but a hen isn’t nearly as eye-catching. Stacy often tells a story about me and a rooster. She tells it better than I will but here goes: The rooster in question, Lawrence, was one of two roosters that belonged to Kiya when she lived on a farm out in Stamping Ground. Chip, the other rooster, was sweet. He would hang out with the hens and follow people and was generally a nice guy. Not Lawrence. He hated people, and he seemed to hate me most of all. Back then, I worked on Maggie Jacob’s horse farm and lived at Kiya’s. One evening, I came home from work, and Lawrence was out of the coop by the driveway. Kiya wasn’t home. This must have been the very early days of cell phones because I called Stacy, who was working evenings at the radio station. She could hear Lawrence when she picked up the phone because he was throwing a fit about me pulling into the drive. He kept circling the truck, determined not to let me into the house. I was exhausted; the sun was going down, Kiya was out on tour, so she wasn’t coming home, and that rooster was standing between me and a hot shower. I came up with an idea, told Stacy what it was, and left her on the phone as I got out of the truck. The last thing I heard her say was, “No, Kopana, don’t do that!” She then heard a weedeater, and it wasn’t long before she ceased to hear Lawrence. Soon, I was in the house and returned to the phone. I could hear the disappointment in her silence. Finally, she said, “You didn’t.” “I did,” I replied proudly. “There wasn’t any line in it, but he didn’t know that.” Mission accomplished, and a good night’s sleep followed. Lawrence did not bother me anymore.
No responses yet