I'm not confessing to anything--Super Hen Part 7!

I believe that HE is trying to make a subtle point. Yeah right. Subtle is not in HIS vocabulary! I mean--announcing to the world that HE is cooking chicken, one that is 1.8 on the 'Chicken Licking Cooking Scale!' Come on---that's just a claw beyond the black stump too close for comfort.

I heard HIM as HE sang HIS little ditty as he collected some tropical guavas, parsley, thyme and some mint. (Yeah, there's gotta be a song in there somewhere!) HE was going on about adding a bit of salt and pepper, along with a few cloves of garlic and---HE's gonna slow roast the chicken. What were all those pointed looks a out dude?

Something tells me that my escapades are becoming a tad too much. I need to inform HIM that they are 'necessary,' in order to keep the creativity re my egg-laying capacity! I need inspiration, hence my wanderings and little games. They are the stimulus and hey---I have to keep an eye or two on my sisters! They need constant cajoling and praise. Hell---one of them is even ;laying the occasional double yoker, so I must be doing something right.

OK---, calm down time. HE has visitors today and I am going to arrange a little floor show---you know---a 'make ya feel good,' kinda production. Just when his guests are drinking their wine in the garden, sitting on those lovely chairs that I have not (as het!) crapped on, we will cluck in that endearing fashion that people so love, and pop over the fence. That is when HE thinks HE has us under a spell----HE will call us and we in turn run across to HIM where upon we sit. HE picks us up and places us in the enclosure. HE falls for it every time. It makes HIM feel powerful. I bet HE informs HIS guests about HIS 'skills' as a Hen Whisperer!

Jeeze---what a girl won't do to keep the peace!

Confessions of Super Hen---Part 6.

Yes, I know---I have been silent for a few days. I have been contemplating my life, down here on the Coast. I have been adjusting to the very changing cycle of life; the weather, the garden as it evolves, as HE keeps planting stuff and to my sisters, who now challenge my egg laying capacity.

I have an issue with HIM. HE has sort of worked put how we escape from time to time. Wow---HE put a great deal of faith in the capacity of the fence to keep us in. He believed that we were escaping underneath the fence and then going on to explore the garden, eating those pesky snails and yes, the occasional  salad type veggie. Hell, we even unearthed a few worms, but that meant catering the odd newly planted plants. Hey---come on---we can't help doing what comes naturally to us. We get in the 'zone' and just DO IT!

Back to that fence. Did HE really think that we could not launch ourselves over a silly little construction like that? HE really was ripped off buying that thing online. I hear that is a particular 'theme' in HIS life. Like, hey dude---our wings do GROW after the initial clipping and one of your friends was correct---we just climb up to the top of the launch pad---oops, I mean cage, and we do what history---human history, has  or should have taught YOU! We take off! Basic Physics and rocket science 101, ,mate! HIS stupidity almost rivals that of those poor followers of a certain Bishop, I see on the news (Yes I watch TV at night through the windows---do not tell HIM!) I do not usually swear, unlike HIM, but---humans are so fecking dumb!

OK---I have established in my immutable style, the fact that we go walk about, or to be more precise---fly about. HE should not worry; we are not going to go far and we know where all the dogs are. The cats seem to leave us alone, having witnessed the 'murder of the sparrow the other week. Even HE is a bit more careful when HE enters our enclosure. Take the other day, for example. HE was a little tardy, replacing our water and as HE placed the bowl on the ground, I gave HIM a bit of a hurry up. Unfortunately, I nearly hit his eye. HE yelped like a puppy and quickly withdrew. I better not do that again, because I heard HIM complaining to the other human, the one who hardly ever comes out. He is totally freaked by us; something from his childhood, I guess,

Given the above issues, I have decided on a bit of professional development for myself and my sisters. It is around the field of 'Dealing with humans in a non-violent manner---involving the three stages: identifying strategies, intervention and surviving the trauma. There---that should bring a bout a more peaceful and yes---a haven of understanding. I shall let you kn ow how HE is coping.

Oscillating on the Coast!

Yes---we do that sort of ting---down here. Whaaaaat, you say. I can just imagine the machinations re that statement. But---it all comes down to the stones---not stoners, although there would be a fair number of them here, too. The oscillating refers to the latest addition to my tumbling. On no---here he goes again, you think? Go back to previous posts and look at the beautiful stones I tumbled in the old machine. Each batch takes a month!

OK---to increase the efficiency of the process, I indulged in a flash new machine from Trumpland! I was hoping it would come without all the bullshit attached to the latter and have a bit more re longevity and actually do what it says it would. Sadly, it did not live up to the promise; for a start it was not adaptable, nor did it come as described. It made claims that were just not true, like having the wrong connections and false plug ins. Trumpland does not manufacture stone tumbling stuff that can just be switched on---oh no---it will need adaptation to make it work, then it can shorten the process tenfold! Sound familiar? Hell---it could even build a wall and make the neighbours pay for it. I'm getting behind myself!

The problem was the plug, which meant that the energy source was---- a 'disconnect'! Trumpland plugs just don't work in NZ! NO---it is not our not being on board here---hell---no of the 'universal' adaptors worked either. It seems that I will have to arrange a rewiring of the plug, which a clever electrician has been employed to do, then he gets deported back to Mexico. Must use him first though!

So---I am quite upbeat about the new 'device.' I can't wait to start 'tumbling' again on the Coast. Events elsewhere will  not change the result. I will have smooth stones, beautiful baubles, I will be 'connected!'

Confessions of 'Super Hen,' part 5.

HE went away for a day and a bit. HE left us to the mercy of 'things that go bang in the night.' HE did leave food and water and I heard HIM making plans with the man over the fence. I also heard the man behind us saying that--'the pot always awaited,' if the girls escape!' NOT funny funny old man!

BUT----I rallied the girls--I made sure they behaved and it was only me who set out to explore and guard our realm. Twice I 'surged in a mass of fluttery  feathers, combined with maniacal clucking and flashing talons towards the 'ginga' cat, that assumes territorial right. No way fellow creature---this is OURS! The said cat quickly retreated under the threat of a mad group of clucky soldiers attacking at will.

I thought that being in HIS good books might go down well, siI had a serious chat with the errant sister who insists on laying soft eggs and placing them in 'hard to find places.' She responded magnificently and laid her first real egg, complete in its hardness, in the correct place---'the box!'

We had one issue. HE had purchased a 'top of the line,;' chookatarium,' a device that allows a constant flow of food, but protected by the an arrangement that stops sparrows and other 'vultures,' from stealing our food. The girls and---yes---me---have not quite gotten the knack of the device---yet. Come on----give us time. Our brains are somewhat diminished---well their anyway. I don;t want to be too 'out there,' re my hen cleverness! Maybe you can guess what happened!

Yes, the clothes peg holding the flap open, broke whilst HE was away. Our source of food was denied!  Luckily HE had left extra Hen food in our pen and there was also plenty of green stuff with loads of clean water. We know HE did not mean it to be so, so we held no grievance against HIM. Indeed, we excelled re our 'production targets and when HE returned, there were four beautiful eggs,' in the box. HE was elated and his recovery from the realisation that his flash chookatarium,' had partially failed, was thrust aside as he heaped praise on our efforts.

All is well in our neck of the Coast. Now, we feel like a party. Mmmm---who shall we invite!

This time it is Japan! What is going on with my blog?!

I have written from time to time that I get somewhat distorted hits on my blog. In the past, it has been from Israel. Today I see Japan has 'played the game.' with nearly 3000 hits in one day from that country. Of course, that does not mean that the hits actually come from Japan. One would think that I should be pleased at such numbers, but---do you really believe that a blog that gets up to 100 hits a day would suddenly take off in the manner described. Nope---I am a suspicious realist.

I have tried to report the matter to Google, but they do not respond. Maybe they are just too busy making money, rather than address my concerns about my minuscule blog! So, I am appealing to my readers, to see if any of you (or the ones on FB and Twitter) can explain what these numbers really mean.  I look forward to your 'explanations!
www.authorneilcoleman.com 

Kindle 'downloads in China?

I know that my blogs are read in China but I am unsure if they can download the two books I have on Kindle. To my Chinese readers------ please let me know if you can download  'Roskill' and 'Talk To Me.' Go to my website and click on Neil's Books and follow the link. Please share my site with your friends.
www.authorneilcoleman.com

Confessions of 'Super-Hen,' (Part 4)

Sometimes I really do get the last laugh re setting HIM up. Life has been very settled around our patch lately, with 3 and a half of us laying (The last girl to join the production line, is a bit hesitant) and for the most part, we stay in our enclosure. HE of course was rather busy, with his friend and that huge monster, hairy dog. OMG---it was ten times bigger than the little teaser HE calls Perdy! It did tend to keep the latter in a better frame of mind though.

OK----life can get boring if things are so settled, that 'predictability' is the name of the game. Oh no----HE needed a 'reminder! I called a 'High Council of the Feathered.' We made a plan---well that is, the girls agreed to my instructions. That's how it works in my neck of the garden. Here's how it played out.

As per usual, HE emerged at a 'way past decent hour,' which in HIS terminology is about 6.55. HE has taken to letting us roam at will around our enclosure, because HE believes that his hairy baby has frightened away all the Thames rats---yeah right! I saw one the other day that would have fed us for a week, had we caught it!  The 'plan' was that I was going to give HIM a little reminder that 'There is no fence that can keep Me in!' You know the rest of the song---well maybe not, because I being multi-talented, wrote it! Right, to cut a long story short---yeah I know---you hate that saying, I went 'wandering,'---on the other side of his garden---in the neighbours driveway---to be precise. Now---don't go worrying---I know  the cats and there are no 'Perdy-like' creatures in that area.----

HE espied me, strutting my stuff, while my sisters looked on, with much clucking and prancing. HE emerged in quite a state, calling for assistance and in a right panic! Oops---I sort of said that twice, but it was so funny, I guess a bit of chooky exaggeration is quite suitable. HE came running---no that's wrong----wobbling is more apt----and made a 'hen-line' for the back fence. That's when it turned into a circus. HE just could not quite straddle the fence and HE got sort of stuck, right where I hear it hurts or at least becomes---uncomfortable. Human males of a certain age, are not designed to straddle fences. HE called for help to catch me while HE remained 'ensconced ' in a most unseemly manner, uttering very bad words rhyming with 'cluck,' and becoming more and more agitated.

Help arrived, HE freed himself and between the two of them, they tried to convert me into being a sheep. They 'herded' me---crazy. I let them contain me near the fence and HE picked me up. With a little, but suitably dramatic flick of my wings, I alighted upon familiar territory and glanced back as HE once again mounted the fence. Yeah, I know---to much information. Peace returned and I returned to breakfast---a delicious combination of herbs, leftovers and chooky chow. I hope I have not rocked HIS boat a little too much. Time will tell. Come on---one has to keep HIM on his claws! As for getting the last laugh----