Back from Jamaica, jah man, good times. That island is like a giant cruise ship you can't get off. Ate a lot of chicken, thought a lot about mine. In most everything there are a few that don't conform, be it a peanut that stays in the bag when you shake it out, the one in a hundred seeds that actually do germinate, plane crashes with one survivor, you get the idea. So here is my incognito rooster, maybe. Maybe she is really butch, but here is the thing: he/she/it does have small spores on her legs. I have seen it homp other chickens, but so do other female chickens; apparently this happens when there are no males around. I did move all the roosters to the freezer last year, but this one escaped destiny. See, it has a birth defect, a cleft lip. It drinks in a funny way with its head tilted sideways, but also, I think it can't crow with that off beak. Darwin's survival of the fittest dethroned, to some extent. Or maybe I'll end up with a flock of sideway drinkers.
So there was this guy on the beach, definitely high as a kite at all times, bipolar and manic as well, trying to sell wicker stuff. Dreadlock rasta, 55 ish. He has been doing it for 30 some years and the guy knows how to weave alright.
"I went to Jamaica and all I got was this egg basket". It was a little challenging traveling with it because I used it as my carry on and it had all the dirty laundry in it. (YIKES) Also, it didn't fit in the overhead bin but it got home safe and sound. Really happy with it.
So for good measure I had him custom make me an apiary hat, to be. Nice work, a little painful traveling with such a contraption on your head. But happy as a clam, or lobster.
Pieter Los, born in Scotland, raised in the Netherlands, lost in the USA. .