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Posts Tagged ‘Trish (the chicken)’

I’d like to post about Trish’s birthday weekend — also known as the Shock and Awe Safari — but I need to get photos from her. To tide you over until that post, here is an update on Shelly and Jeanne.

They don’t hate me anymore, but they are still suspicious of me. (I think they’ve seen what I often cook for dinner.)

They are also lazy. No eggs yet. You may remember that Trish squeezed out her first egg on, appropriately, Labor Day.

Shelly and Jeanne have been really loud lately though, so maybe they are getting ready for egg action. And Jeanne has been pecking at the window. For what purpose, I don’t know.

Maybe she’s trying to modify our eating habits. Maybe she should worry about producing some eggs …

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I haven’t posted about the chickens, Shelly and Jeanne, for a while.

It’s because I hate them.

They started it. They hated me first.

It doesn’t help that they are so much stinkier and messier than Trish was.

But they do seem more interested in me lately. They haven’t run quite as fast when I come out to give them food and water. And they’ve been peering in the window of the playroom, almost as if they are interested in what’s going on inside the house.

Jeanne and Shelly, Peeping Hens

But as they are looking in, certain someones are looking out.

Dinner!

This does not bode well.

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I genuinely love my job, and I love the students who take my classes. (I don’t want to call folks “my students” because I don’t own them.) They are bright, inquisitive and funny, and make me glad I get to hang out with them for a living.

I’ve been surprised and honored by their generosity as well. When my mom died, Kristina gave me chocolates and told me that’s what helped her get through her own tragedy. When Trish the Chicken died, Kristina, Claire and Jason gave me a chocolate muffin and a latte to show that they were sorry for my loss. Today, Becca gave me a Snuggie (a Snuggie!) monogrammed with my initials because I once said I needed one because the classroom was so freakin’ cold.

And just moments after that awesome gift, Charlotte — who isn’t even taking a class with me this quarter — brought me red velvet cupcakes from Back in the Day Bakery (the best kind of cupcakes).

So it’s been a pretty awesome day, filled with surprises.

Jenny, of the rabid weasels, asked me once if I actually liked all “my” students. I think she was surprised to learn that the answer is “Yes.” (Disclaimer: Jenny once gave me a latte and a muffin because I helped her help a friend with her résumé).

The qualifier is that some are more high-maintenance than others. Also, some students don’t like other students, and that makes for tough times in class discussions.

I can group many of the students into a few categories:

The Overachiever
This student already has an A, but is always looking for extra credit. She will redo a project if you let her, even if she got an A the first time around. (Yes, Deanne, I’m talking about you.)

The Shocker
This kind of student defies any preconceived notions. It may appear that he doesn’t care, and isn’t paying attention, but then he turns in the best work in the class. (Yes, A.D., this is you.)

The Tester
This student is suspicious of you from the get-go, but you will slowly win her over if you do, in fact, know what you are talking about. And then she will try to push you to see how far she can go. (Hello, Amber!)

The Hater
This student may appear to hate your guts during the class, but he will surprise you later on when he tells you that he learned so much from you. It is an unexpected, but joyful moment. (Whit, do you still read my blog?)

The Liquid Center
This student sometimes seems confrontational, but that behavior masks a deep-seated vulnerability. This student just needs some reassurance that she really does have talent. (No names here; no need for that exposure.)

The Personality
This student often is the most challenging because she has created a particular persona, and may resist your efforts to get her to think about anything/anyone other than herself. The trick is to help her figure out how to make assignments interesting enough to her so that she will enjoy doing them. (I think we all know whom I’m talking about here.)

The Lifer
That’s not a great title for this type of student, but it will have to do. With this student, you know early on that he/she will be in your life forever — and that is a good thing. You “get” them, they “get” you, and it is a lovely, symbiotic relationship. You start out as professor/student, and morph into colleagues and friends later on. Some people in the aforementioned categories will end up in this one, and that is a lovely thing too. (I’d like to name names here, but I have a little bit of a liquid center, and I worry if my feelings are reciprocated.)

So, to all my past and present students, I’d like to say this:

Yes, I really do like you.

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The chickens hate me. Or they are completely terrified of me. Or both.

It makes me sad, because Trish loved me. And I’ve done all the same things with them that I did with her, like talking and petting.

There’s nothing worse than ungrateful poultry. It’s foul fowl behavior.

But I guess I should expect it. Shelly and Jeanne are in that ugly teenager phase. All gangly with feathers sticking up all over. They probably have acne. And don’t all teenagers hate their parents at that age?

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We didn’t need another dog. But it looks like we have one.

I think Eddie and I both knew when we took in Mona that she would end up staying. We made (half-hearted) attempts to find another home for her. We thought our friend Sarah’s mom might take her. But I’ll admit we didn’t push too hard.

Yesterday, I broke down and got her this:

That’s a big step. Pretty permanent. Kind of like a wedding ring. But how could we resist this face?

Or the fact that she looks like this when she chews her toys:

But I am worried about one thing: She is very interested in Shelly and Jeanne. Eddie built the coop next to the playroom window so we could check on the chickens easily (ie. see if there is an egg before we have to walk out there). (And yes, convenience equals laziness.)

Maggie the Murderer better not be giving her any ideas.

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Though it pained me to do it, I cleaned out Trish’s coop last weekend. (Sad.) Shelly and Jeanne had grown fast, and it was almost time for them to take over the coop.

I knew the time had come last night when I heard a commotion. My feathered friends had found their wings and were pretty darn excited about it. I wish I had a recording of their chirps.

This morning, they moved into the coop.

They seem pretty happy about it. It is a much bigger place, with no nosy, noisy neighbors. Shelly likes the yard, while Jeanne plans to become involved with the neighborhood association. She heard about the crime in the area, and wants to make sure she does all she can to keep the place safe.

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AAAAAAAAHHHHH! (Is that how you would write a guttural scream of mortal fear?)

That’s just Shelly in shadow, but it’s a pretty creepy photo.

I imagine that is how I seem to Shelly and Jeanne. Every time I come near their enclosure, they freak out. I try to talk to them and handle them every day, but they are just more skittish than Trish ever was.

Sad.

I brought Jeanne over to the couch tonight to hang out with us, and Maggie looked over with interest. Eddie said, “Go lay down, Murderer!” And she kind of hung her head and walked away.

They are growing fast and soon will be headed out to the coop.

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I hadn’t planned on it when I woke up, or even thought about it during most of the day. But at 4:30 this afternoon, I decided I needed to get new chickens.

Jeanne and Shelly are Araucanas (blue eggs!) and came from Economy Feed and Seed on Carolan Street. Originally, Shelly was going to be named “Patty,” as a nod to Patricia (otherwise known as Trish the Chicken’s namesake), and Gideon wanted the other to be named “Mike.” (Why? I don’t know.) But “Patty and Mike” just didn’t sound right. And naming one “Mike” would ensure we would end up with an unexpected rooster.

I named our previous chickens after live people, and they ended up dead. So this time, I named them after dead people in the hope that the chickens will stay alive. Shelly was Trish’s mom, and Jeanne was mine.

The boys and I are excited.Eddie has registered his concern and dismay. Noted. And obviously ignored. (Sorry, Sweetie!)

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Trish wasn’t just a chicken. She was a cottage industry. She had a Facebook page, was the theme for my Twitter account, and the star of this blog. So I’m struggling with how to proceed.

For now, she will remain as the inspiration and theme.

And today, I’ll return to a popular topic: signs.

At a sushi place in the Mall of Georgia, I spotted this bit of loveliness:

Does that “sause” get you soused? Sigh.

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Trish La Gallina was laid to rest in a private funeral service held Wednesday morning

Funeral service held for murder victim
From Staff Reports

Distraught family members stood solemnly at Trish La Gallina’s graveside as Beth Concepción, La Gallina’s mother, delivered the eulogy.

“We’ll miss you so much,” she said, her voice cracking. “No other chicken can replace you.”

La Gallina, 1, died Monday after an altercation with her sister, Maggie The Dog, 8, in the family’s back yard. Their father, Eddie Concepción, found the body Tuesday morning. Maggie is in custody, and has confessed to the murder. She is represented by their brother, attorney Vince The Dog, who said he plans to enter a plea of temporary insanity.

The family held a private, side yard service Wednesday morning. In addition to Beth and Eddie Concepción, La Gallina’s older brothers Dominic, 5, and Gideon, 3, were in attendance.

“We love you, Trish,” Dominic said as their father threw the first shovel-full of dirt into the hole he dug next to La Gallina’s coop.

The family banned both Maggie and Vince from the ceremony. There is no date scheduled yet for Maggie’s trial.

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