November 29th, 2006

frog

Mystery Solved (again)

So yesterday I could only count 11 chickens from the house in the afternoon. There were 12, who all came running to the fencing when I came down. And then, suddenly, like a magic trick, one was right beside me. Just popped out. This one did NOT come straight to me and ask to be put back. No, she immediately darted (zig-zag) away at top speed, singing 'Free! I'm Free! You can't catch Me!' Sort of like the Gingerbread Man. sigh. Chicken chase.

After I tossed her back in, I took a closer look at the temporary fence, which is the plastic orange netting used for catching snowdrifts (we excel at drifting on the property, which is presumably why the previous owners had the stuff). Down at the bottom was a hen-sized rip in the plastic strips. Aha.

Now I'm not saying that they actively ripped the fencing. It could have happened in the wind because we hold the base tight against the ground with cinder blocks and bricks. But it was suspiciously just the right size for a hen. No, the interesting part is that their pea-brains don't seem to know where the hole is. They were just congregating along the fence to see me and Pop! out one comes. So has Walkabout been getting out on purpose or by accident? And clearly, once out, finding the hole again was beyond any power of chicken reasoning.

I tied up the hole with some string. Let's see if they can undo a square knot. They untie shoe laces pretty well.

Frog Out
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    Sherlock Holmes
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frog

Desk Cleaning

I cleaned my indoor office yesterday. It feels good, really good. We've run out of shelf space as usual (bookcases cover 3 walls of my office where I house the sf collection). I had been feeling a distinct desire to unclutter myself of my past again. My Masters of Accountancy and all my second undergraduate degree in Accounting and Finance textbooks, to be specific. I cleared 4 shelves of Ikea Billy bookcases. Trashed my auditing, accounting, finance, computer, research, tax law and estate law texts. All are now sitting in piles OUTSIDE my office, waiting to be boxed up and sent to, well, anywhere.

I still have my tax form books from 1979-1992, though I'm not sure why. And I still have my basic tax texts for the seasonal tax work. And I still have all my texts in greek and latin from my first degree. No way any of those are going anywhere.

The cool part was being able to create some shelves for 'temporary' books...books in the genre that I am looking at/supposed to look at. That stack of books that arrived from World Fantasy, for example, when I was at Bittercon. And my Wheatland Press short story selections. All of these had been piled anywhere, including on top of my desk. Now they are in a place where I can pull them out and USE them, READ them, instead of cursing them for making a mess.

And now I can actually see my desk, work at it.

It's all part of the plot to get writing and get the house ready for the holidays. Man, it feels great. Really great. I'm just sitting here feeling great. Smug even.

Frog Out