December 7, 2012 § Leave a comment
Today my house marched outside and chicken wrangled a house christmas card.
Our home is called the HoL – the House of Lorax – I think because it was named by a pile a of hippies trying to satisfy their own sensibilities while appeasing their less mature friends, who were sated by calling it the Glory HoL (Glorious House of Lorax). I refused to do this and called it the Barn – it looks like a Barn – until it finally made it around to me that the HoL stood for something pleasant, to some people part of the time.
I’m a stickler for house names. Years of being force-fed glorified titles akwardly slapped on crumbling college-kid dumps had sickened me. This was further needled by the endless pretention that I should know exactly what house every name applied to, as if it synched with my brain the precise moment some drunk hipster first vomited it out. I became anti-name. I was the scrooge of college houses. I named every house myself, based on the color or street. Names should be natural, I snapped, flowing from the surroundings the way you would describe an unnamed dwelling to a stranger. But the HoL has a giant flag in the window that reads, in messy spraypaint, “HOL”, which I have to admit is pretty clear. And The Lorax is one of my favorite books, so I don’t have a lot of conscientious space to be a jerk about it.
The Chickens weren’t really into the idea of a photo. Pidge flapped about, escaping from time to time just to perch on the shoulder of the person next to her, beady eyes shouting “You know I’m a shoulder chicken. Why should I have to put up with this awful holding.” I clutched Ruby, the only one who’s properly containable, and she just sort of peered at me upsetly and shivered a little. Quentin mainly tried to head straight for the camera to eliminiate the trouble at its source. N. and Attila the Hen have always had a special relationship, so, we just let them do their thing, which oscillated between N. pretending Attila was a fighter jet and Attila digging her claws into his hands and climbing all over his cashmere sweater. Attila’s technically easiest to hold, if you’re not N., and don’t abuse your privileges.
N. and Attila the Hen (Buff Orpington), Me and Ruby (Bantam Silkie), S. and Pidge (Ameraucana hen), A. and Quentin (Ameraucana still deciding her sex).
Happy Holidays! From me and the chickens and the many people who make this place home.