chickens – Page 3 – Louisa Parry

A scene I reference way too much, treat time for them, treat time for me

1. The rain pools on the freshly painted metal work, like the melted liquid metal in Terminator 2.

2. They like it when we visit with treats. They love the borage leaves almost as much as the corn. When they’ve finished, the black-flecked chicken always checks very carefully that I’m not hiding more about my person – my jean studs get investigated, my fingers pecked and I’ve learned to be more careful when bending over without a belt. Today, she stands at my feet – at the very ends of my shoes – and stares directly upwards, eyes pleading. I swear I hear the word “corn” in her bwaarrwarkwarks.

3. Both my cups of tea have been perfect today but the second one is made even better because we picked up a pack of dark chocolate digestives at lunchtime. I sit in the armchair, eating them and enjoying the moment: I don’t have to be at work, I don’t have to be in Bingley, I don’t have to be thinking about going to Bingley, I can just sit.

Breakfast, animals x 3, showcase x3

11/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. The sweetness of the crisp bacon, the sourness of the muffin, the silkiness of the scrambled egg and the substantial chewiness of the sausage. A great breakfast.

2. Animals:

a) The chickens cluck around me, interested in what I’m doing to their drinker, to their grit hopper and to their coop. When I’m working on their nest boxes – in the strip of no-man’s-land outside their enclosed run, they gather around the run door watching and waiting for my return into their world – or plotting their escape, it’s hard to tell which. After I’m done, I take them borage leaves and before I can bend down to give them out, one cheeky girl flies up and snatches one out of my hand. Definitely getting braver.

b) She looks like a puppy when her back legs bounce up at the same time. I think she knows it too, knows to do that so we can’t help but fall in love with her more.

c) Boron is asleep in Lily’s bed – her big dog bed that’s actually a bit too big for her. Boron looks tiny in the cushioned oval, his extended paw clawing on/off at the blanket as I talk to him.

3. The last night of the showcase:

a) The scrap of paper – torn to just the minimum then folded many times to much delight – finally makes it back to me just in time for the start of the show.

b) I’m more nervous tonight than I have been because John’s in the audience and I want them to do a good job so he’ll enjoy it. Afterwards, he says he did.

c) From where I’m sat, I can’t see the action, just a slither of stage at the very back. Their shadows – from many different light sources – are overlaid so many times that they’re abstract strips of light and dark.

She’s a funny one, damn good kids, strangely romantic moment, sleep hug

7/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. I go down to see the chickens – to fill up their food & water and take some photos for The Really Good Life’s chicken update. The one with black flecks seems delighted to see me and is intrigued by the camera – she looks at it, peers inside at the lens snapping shut and pecks at my fingers holding it up. I laugh and laugh, then looking at the pictures I’ve taken, I laugh again.

2. We spend most of the dress rehearsal nagging them to speak clearer, add more character and please oh please learn their lines before Friday – but I make sure to single them out afterwards and thank them for the effort they’ve put in thus far. Later, with the older kids, amid stalled improvisations & funny word games, I chat to them about fake tan mishaps, bra straps and chlamydia tests in public toilets. I’m going to miss them a lot over the summer.

3. They break the hug when the bus arrives and as she turns to the door, she licks her lips. Eyes shining & cheeks flushed, he watches her as she pays and moves up the bus. She sticks her tongue out as she passes him as if freeing him to go but he stays until the bus pulls away.

4. I’m hardly wake enough to realise what Boron’s doing – positioning himself under my arm for a cuddle. In my mostly-asleep state, I shuffle around him to get comfortable and he places his head next to mine on the pillow. Like Carla last week, he’s soft like a teddy bear but purring. I like when the nights are cooler and the cats remember where the warmth is.

Spotted, nearly kisses, hen friends, up there with laughter

6/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. I find a polka dotted feather on the ground in the woods – black with white spots. I show the boys then keep it tucked in my hand, to take it home and add it to my collection.

2. “Well, that was nearly embarrassing,” I tell one of my colleagues over IM, “the cat just stood on the “x” key and nearly sent you a row of kisses.” He laughs.

3. The chicken, the one with the black flecked neck, eats the corn from my hand – a first for Team Peach. Later, they all eat from John’s hand and the black flecked one jumps then flies up to sit on my head. I think they’re starting to like us.

4. She’s on me now, rubbing and writhing around on my wrists as I’m trying to type. Now she’s sat on the arm of the chair, looking at me, purring with her paws tucked under at the front. I reach over to tickle her head but she pushes her chin forward instead, telling me to stroke under there instead. My hands are dry & tender – swollen joint hangover from the work I did yesterday & from an assortment of nettle strings today – but the pain is temporarily relieved when I touch her smooth and refreshingly cool fur.

Stroke, good dogs, crunch-crunch-crunch, stroke

4/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. They’re slowly getting used to us. At first, they quietly protest about being held but I’m barely holding the last one, just a supporting hand on her chest then nothing at all, and she stays there on my knee. She peers at us both without blinking for a few moments then slowly hops off my lap and returns to her pecking.

2. We meet two cute little dogs on the walk – Murphy at the start, Scraps at the end. Both are tempted to stop and play with Lily but like good dogs, they respond to their owners’ calls instead.

3. The baked egg shells crumble easily under the mortar and the sound straddles the fine line between wonderful and grating.

4. Boron joins us on the sofa and the position he’s in means I can stroke him with my full forearm, not just my hand. His fur feels warm and luxurious on my inner wrist.

Early morning, perfect results, good dog good dog

3/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. I get up to let the chickens into the run then sneak back to bed, curling around the dog who has taken my place while I was away. Outside, it felt earlier than it is – soft sunlight, a dawn-like chill – but the bedroom is toasty warm.

2. The bread’s even brown crust glistens as it slips out of the pan without hesitation. Later, the scones are as equally uniform in gorgeous colour. A good baking day.

3. I remember I’ve got her bone in my pocket and initiate a game of fetch. She doesn’t really know how to play Fetch but with coaching, she’s gets it and grins in anticipation before each round. Suddenly, she hears a distant bark and gets self-conscious as if she thinks Fetch is not respectable doggie behaviour.

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