“Chicken TV is keeping me sane,” she says, as we soak in that timeless world, mesmerized by their languid pecking and the occasional drop of a leaf.
Our nature cravings keep us on our toes, but as far as addictions go, I wouldn’t say this one is craven.
“Notice anything different about this one?” Shelley asks, holding a newly-feathered chicken with both hands. It’s an Australorp, she tells me.
My first love arrived on all fours one winter day in 1965. I was standing in line, shivering with grades K through 8 outside St. Mary’s on City Island. I stared at the wooden doors with my fingers tucked into my armpits, willing the nuns to emerge and usher us in when a disturbance made […]
When Shelley returned home after two weeks away, she was confronted by a loud and needy cat. Lucy let her know, in strident tones, how much she had missed her and how devastatingly hungry she had been. She went on and on about it, while Shelley busied herself with unpacking and reacquainting herself with her […]