Chickens and Chick Flicks

In a comment on yesterday's post, The Chicken Lady* suggested that one way I can avoid throwing out egg cartons is by getting chickens. When we went to Stanley's cousins wedding in Denver this past August, I met his other cousin Travis*, who had several chickens. I think he had driven them some long distance; not too sure. They were cute and made adorable noises and didn't mind being held. I felt drawn to them. Must be in our genes, Chicken Lady! But are chickens allowed in my back yard? I looked up the local ordinances and while I didn't find an official document describing the rules for keeping chickens, I did find a description on a non-government site. It said that for my city, a bloke "can have one chicken without a permit, but more than one you have to get permission from 75% of neighbors 150 ft. around, or proof you have no neighbors for 150 feet. No roosters, and no selling eggs without a permit." Fair enough. I will give the eggs away. Or trade them for gold and treasury bonds.

In my search for the local laws, I came across a (~10-minute) youtube video that documents the difficulties one guy had when he tried to find out whether he could have chickens in Chicago.



I also came across this awesome video.



If I have to watch one more rabbit fight in my back yard, I'll go nuts! I gotta get me some chickens.

I'm not sure what to do with the chickens when it gets too cold. Eat them? I hear they taste like rare and questionable delicacies.

I was a bit surprised to learn that there is another presidential debate tomorrow (Tuesday). Already! I haven't fully digested the last debate! I plan to liveblog it again. Why stop now? 9 p.m. MJB and Biden time. 8 p.m. Hazel and Amacrine time. 7 p.m. McCain time. 6 p.m. Chicken Lady, Jasmine, and Lotus time. 3 p.m. Obama and Palin time.

Stanley is out of town (not sure what town) at a departmental retreat. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've had the house to myself overnight since we moved in over a year ago. I'm trying to take full advantage of it. I've got a horrible chick flick playing right now: Dancing at Lughnasa, starring an underused Meryl Streep. Just really terrible. Painfully touching and cloyingly dramatic. I'm enjoying it. But I miss Stanley a little bit. Earlier this evening I tried to open a jar of pickled beets which I planned to put in a spinach salad. For the first time in my adult life, I needed someone to open a jar for me because I wasn't strong enough. I pride myself in not needing a man to open a jar for me, but I put all my strength into this one and used several tools but it just wouldn't budge. I was kind of getting angry and sad. But then I opened it. Independent reputation intact.

Just now on the phone I made tentative plans to entertain our friends Mike* and Carolyn* tomorrow night. Mike helped Stanley brew the latest beer, a Toasted Oat Cream Ale, and he's also going to help with bottling. Carolyn is the friend that I do the frozen meal prep with, and we're going to cook one of them up.

Yay the movie is over.

*Names changed.