Harvey, Leola and Spazzz
Oh, woe is me. I promised that I would relive the Rooster/Chicken ordeal, thus explaining my blog name "Rooster Noodle Soup". OK. . . . . (doo takes long deep calming breath)
Back in April, we went to some flea market/critter selling thing-a-mick-bobber down in Mississippi trying to see if some of the toofless rednecks would rub off'n us and we could come back to the farm in our newly found country fried glory. So, we ate a big farm breakfast (urp), loaded up the brats and headed further South into REAL Jethros a'eatin squirrell pot pie territory.
Lo and behold, besides farm implements (Elmer went orgasmic), yes, there were critters (daughter Ellie Mae went, well, all goofy over the animals, because at 11, orgasmic just isnt in Mom's vocabulary when referring to the daughter). Oh, and to tell you that Elmer is NOT overly eating up this down-home back country lifestyle we have adopted is telling you that the sky is hot pink with purple polka dots. He THRIVES on opening the paper and reading the classifieds every day to get my reaction to : "Hey, they have (pick a critter) in the classifieds for only $00.00". Granted, I want horses, but he wants goats, cows, pigs, mules, alpacas, roosters - in short, anything that draws a bazillion flies and eats my beautiful rolling green 20 acres. But, I regress. . . . . back to the tale I was spinnin for ya.
When we rounded the corner of "animal alley", the first tent we came to had chickens and roosters and ducks. As we strolled by the fences, stopping occasionally for my son, John-Boy, to squeel and laugh in delight at an animal projecting waste out the rear chute, we ran across bunnies all piled into cages. Ellie Mae's eyes glistened with happy tears as Elmer said to the toofless lady selling them, "can she hold one?" It was love at first touch, and Elmer immediately bought a white one with brown spots (Popcorn) and a soft light brown one (Caramel) for Ellie. Oh, how I regret allowing Elmer to make that first purchase. . . . .
The next tent had Polish chickens, which I LMAO at with their Phyllis Diller head feathers. Elmer was so tickled, that he bought one for me, and in my apprehension, I named it Spazzz as he promised me that he knew how to take care of chickens.
Then there was Harvey, a majestic white rooster with blue green tailfeathers. Next tent, we found Leola, a black and white speckled hen. (If you are wondering, Harvey and Leola are my Mom and Dad's middle names, my Mother HATES the name Leola, so we laughed all the way back to the farm at telling her the names we picked).
It was dark before we arrived at the house, and the critters made quite a (P-U) mess in the back of my city slicker SUV. We left them all on the back porch until morning when we could see to make them a chicken pen.
2:10 a.m. . . . . . it starts.
Harvey has found the voice he did not have at the flea market. After the first crow, or shall I call it a "down to your bones SCREAM", Elmer starts laughing. I kick him at the second one and tell him to "git his ass out of this bed and take care of his effin chickens". He rolled laughing.
Guess who got up and had enough sense to find a blanket and cover the damn things up? YEEE-HAW.
Back in April, we went to some flea market/critter selling thing-a-mick-bobber down in Mississippi trying to see if some of the toofless rednecks would rub off'n us and we could come back to the farm in our newly found country fried glory. So, we ate a big farm breakfast (urp), loaded up the brats and headed further South into REAL Jethros a'eatin squirrell pot pie territory.
Lo and behold, besides farm implements (Elmer went orgasmic), yes, there were critters (daughter Ellie Mae went, well, all goofy over the animals, because at 11, orgasmic just isnt in Mom's vocabulary when referring to the daughter). Oh, and to tell you that Elmer is NOT overly eating up this down-home back country lifestyle we have adopted is telling you that the sky is hot pink with purple polka dots. He THRIVES on opening the paper and reading the classifieds every day to get my reaction to : "Hey, they have (pick a critter) in the classifieds for only $00.00". Granted, I want horses, but he wants goats, cows, pigs, mules, alpacas, roosters - in short, anything that draws a bazillion flies and eats my beautiful rolling green 20 acres. But, I regress. . . . . back to the tale I was spinnin for ya.
When we rounded the corner of "animal alley", the first tent we came to had chickens and roosters and ducks. As we strolled by the fences, stopping occasionally for my son, John-Boy, to squeel and laugh in delight at an animal projecting waste out the rear chute, we ran across bunnies all piled into cages. Ellie Mae's eyes glistened with happy tears as Elmer said to the toofless lady selling them, "can she hold one?" It was love at first touch, and Elmer immediately bought a white one with brown spots (Popcorn) and a soft light brown one (Caramel) for Ellie. Oh, how I regret allowing Elmer to make that first purchase. . . . .The next tent had Polish chickens, which I LMAO at with their Phyllis Diller head feathers. Elmer was so tickled, that he bought one for me, and in my apprehension, I named it Spazzz as he promised me that he knew how to take care of chickens.
Then there was Harvey, a majestic white rooster with blue green tailfeathers. Next tent, we found Leola, a black and white speckled hen. (If you are wondering, Harvey and Leola are my Mom and Dad's middle names, my Mother HATES the name Leola, so we laughed all the way back to the farm at telling her the names we picked).
It was dark before we arrived at the house, and the critters made quite a (P-U) mess in the back of my city slicker SUV. We left them all on the back porch until morning when we could see to make them a chicken pen.
2:10 a.m. . . . . . it starts.
Harvey has found the voice he did not have at the flea market. After the first crow, or shall I call it a "down to your bones SCREAM", Elmer starts laughing. I kick him at the second one and tell him to "git his ass out of this bed and take care of his effin chickens". He rolled laughing.
Guess who got up and had enough sense to find a blanket and cover the damn things up? YEEE-HAW.
