Keep Calm and Raise Chickens

I've fallen into this trap before: hearing someone talk about a kooky aspiration they have, and immediately thinking, "really?" But when they go on, and describe why and what they're doing, it doesn't matter how eccentric their idea may be, it's always interesting. And it's their aspiration, not mine; it isn't going to hurt me any.

I have friends who want to do myriad interesting things, and I support them all. Whether their goals are lofty or simple, long-term or right-this-minute, I get excited for my friends. Whatever it is, if it's finishing cosmetology school, increasing wedding business at your wholesale florist shop, trying to retire before you're fifty, or just trying to get your first legal job in an over-saturated market, I enjoy hearing about the things my friends are setting out to do. And I try not to judge - because I know how it feels when people stomp on others' dreams.

Dream-stomping is something a lot of people participate in - but why? It doesn't cost a thing to support someone in their endeavors, and a little enthusiasm can go a long way.

As I get older, I am dead-set on remembering these things. When my kid tells me they want to be a pilot, you'd better be damn sure I'm patting that kid on the back and telling them what a great goal it is. I'll outfit him or her with all the proper materials to support them in the endeavor. If my teenager wants to go to school for ballet, I'll build a damn barre in the basement, even if it's made of reclaimed wood from the back porch.

But not all people's goals are large. I myself have some lofty ambitions, and then some very small goals, too. In the past, I've mostly kept my aspirations to myself, because amazing, I've found that there are people in the world who get off to stomping on my dreams.

Here's a funny one. I've been known to admit on occasion, and only to select people (but now everyone), one of those goals: raising chickens. Sure, it's weird as hell that a suburban girl, whose animal-raising expertise is limited to her two pound dogs, wants to raise a flock of chickens. Also, let's suspend reality for a minute, because I don't live in a place that allows me to breed chickens.

I have a number of very real reasons why I've considered chicken-raising. First of all, I love to cook, and I run through a dozen eggs in five days. During the holidays, I go through even more of the things. But the eggs I buy come from Kroger, and God only knows how the chickens that lay them are treated. It certainly can't be a nice life. So, you may say, why don't I shell out infinitely more dough and get the cage-free, free-range eggs at the store? Because I don't. I like being thrifty and economizing, and there's no better bang for your buck than to get a dozen eggs for a dollar at Kroger. But you get what you pay for, and I realize this. If I had chickens, I'd have eggs coming out my wazoo, and I'd control the quality of life my chickens experience, and therefore the product I receive.

You know what else eggs are good for? Fertilizer. And as someone who likes to grow a porch garden in the abbreviated Michigan summers, I appreciate that I can make a pulp from my used eggshells and coffee grounds and churn it into the soil where my plants grow.  Cheap, that's how I like...my fertilizer.  But do you know what makes even better fertilizer? Chicken poop. You might think that's gross, and I don't disagree. But the gross factor doesn't stop loads of people from buying bags of chicken manure fertilizer, made from - you guessed it! - dried chicken turds.  We used to use it in my Virginia Beach home, so I know it stinks to high hell and it's expensive, but I also know it grows great products. If I had my own chickens, I would compost their poop to make my own fertilizer and save even more money each year.

I have some thoughts about the people who think it's funny to make fun of that goal: screw them. It makes great financial sense, and as "old-fashioned" or "strange" as that aspiration may be, it's something that means a lot to me. So, as Mickey Redmond said, "put that in your hip pocket and remember it!"

To end this rant, I'd just like to say that it takes a small-minded person to make fun of the things other people are trying hard to do with their lives.  But there are those kinds of people everywhere, so if you have big goals or you want to live a decent life, avoid them like the plague! If you let them get you down, as my good friend often reminds me, they're winning.

Rumi says it better, as per usual.

There are such vicious and empty flatterers
in your life. Do the careful,
donkey-tending work.

Don’t trust that to anyone else.
There are hypocrites who will praise you,
but who do not care about the health
of your heart-donkey.

Be concentrated and leonine
in the hunt for what is your true nourishment.
Don’t be distracted by blandishment-noises,
of any sort.