"This Would Be My Home"--UPDATED!

I got a piece of mail the other day that said, in big letters, "Have you hugged your chicken today?" It was for some backyard poultry publication, and it made my husband laugh to see that this is the kind of mail I get.

"Perfect timing," I said. "I have my Chicks in the City class this weekend."

"What?" he exclaimed. "Honey, we're not getting chickens. I can't do it. Not chickens!" He has been concerned about this possibility ever since he saw me reading Chickens in Your Backyard: A Beginner's Guide a few years ago. And then there have been the chicken pictures I take at every farm I visit. And those little chicken pins I made obsessively one year.

He need not worry. Our neighborhood doesn't allow live poultry (Yes, I've checked!). Yet there I was, at the class.

"I'm not sure why I'm here," I told the dozen or so other students as we sat in our lawn chairs around the chicken coop as if it were a bonfire. The chicken coop straddles the yards of three neighbors (Allison and the couple next door, Lou and Bill) who barely spoke with each other until they all discovered they had a mutual desire for keeping chickens. Now, the "east wing" of the coop is in Allison's yard, where the chickens enter the shed at night, and the "west wing" is in Lou and Bill's yard, where an old rocking chair has been recently added to the found materials that serve as perches. The "wings" are connected by a narrow stretch of land called Chicken Run (of course).

As I was leaving, Allison made an offhand comment about being a musician. Turns out she just released her first CD, Redbud Winter, and she's a finalist in the 2008 South Florida Folk Festival Singer/Songwriter Competition. I purchased her CD and popped it in my CD player for the lengthy ride home.

Oh for a tire swing where I could sit and sing
Sing with the crickets in the twilight lingering
Oh for a resting place to end my wandering
On my own, this would be my home.
Oh for a little lamp that I could see to read
On my own, this would be my home.
Oh for a patch of dirt where I could lay
some seed
Of my own, this would be my home.

I came home, to my swing and lamp and garden. To fresh eggs in the fridge from a farmer I know. To my family out for a long, lazy walk. I put on my sneakers and walked the two miles or so in the breezy Saturday sunshine to meet them on their way back home. I saw them when the road bent just right, and they ran to hug me.

The chickens will have to wait.

To hear Allison's beautiful songs, click here. I particularly love number 4, This Would Be My Home. She also has a very cute song about canning fruits and veggies titled Because I Can that FoodShed Planet folks who "put up" for the winter may enjoy.

UPDATE: November 6, 2007
Just heard from Allison. She has posted an unreleased new song, inspired by the chickens! Actually, here's the story, courtesy of Allison:

For a while now I've been wanting to write a song about the chickens, but I didn't want to do the obvious thing and write a funny one, which would be easy, because there's so much about our Girls that's just funny. Rather, I wanted to write about why I love them, what I've learned from having them, why I think they're so wonderful. And then, serendipitously, my pal and singin partner Cyndi came along with this marvelous challenge--that we all take a theme and write a song about it. The theme was "Day Old Bread." I let it sit in a back corner of my brain for a week or so, and then one morning last week as I was having a cup of coffee and visiting the Girls, this song just fell out. Cyndi recorded it last night at our weekly Sunday Evening Jam get-together with her little hand-held digital recorder we've named Roscoe. Roscoe did such a good job that I decided to go ahead and post it--so have a listen and enjoy!