Saturday, November 23, 2013

It All Began Last Saturday

Perhaps it started with the chickens, I don’t know, but this week things have been pecking at me about the way it is.



After the chicken incident, it spread to school for grandson dear, and then I began to think about how we have to test for drugs, have a background check, a criminal check, everything but a toenail check, if applying for a loan, a school, a job, a house. “Don’t you want to be safe?” they say. “Would you like it if…” Okay okay, I get it, I just don’t like it.

I once heard that the Euro train system was built on the honor system. You paid to get on, you rode, no one checked. However, if on a random check the powers that be found you had no ticket—off you went. Right there, on the spot.

I just wish we weren’t so afraid we were going to be ripped off, taken advantage of, molested, robbed, run out on, or made of fool of, duped, or lambasted.  Am I a dreamer?

Remember Michael, Moore’s documentary Bowling for Columbine ? There he investigated violence in our country and found  it to be fear based.

Perhaps I’m being foolish. On one hand I follow a belief system that you create your own reality (within reason, this belief isn’t for fools there are many codicils.) On the other hand I look at the world. I experience it, I have a reaction.

A psychiatrist once told me,”It isn’t how society imprisons you it’s how you imprison yourself.” Okay, okay. I get it. I still wish fear wasn’t so rampant.

 

“You have to leave,” the woman at grandson’s school told me.

“Somebody has to be with you.” She said. I looked around. There was no one in the room but my grandson and myself. I was playing a game with him until others arrived. Just drop him off into an abyss?? Well, that lasted two days.

Last Saturday a neighbor came over with blood in her eye. I wasn’t home, so she accosted my friend and my husband, railing at how much she had paid for a building permit, and money for the common area around this complex.  It was funny really. Here we were renters with no responsibility.  I wonder where that check goes each month?  I get it, it’s the sheep herders vs. the cattle people all over again—aka , landowners, verses squatters. 

HER REAL COMPLAINT WAS MY CHICKENS.

I went to her house to hear her complaint first-hand.

She had heard my little loud-mouth rooster crowing. He was supposed to be a female as the other two are, but like most male birds he was beautiful to attract a female, and he attracted me.  Last September I bought him as a tiny three-day-old peep—that means he is three-months-old now.

It’s my fault.  I should have gotten rid of him the moment I heard that “Woo Woo” of a juvenile’s voice changing, but I stalled not knowing what to do with him. Now, Mr. Loud Mouth has to crow about 15 times in secession. I had asked for permission from the Property Manager before I got the three baby chicks..  She said ok, and didn’t mention that there were CCR’s for this area, but then it gave the neighbor pleasure to inform me. The City of Eugene allows five chickens—I didn’t know we had CCRs.

I have a cute little self-contained chicken house, the chickens are confined, no poultry wire—horrors. The neighbor mentioned poultry wire like it was white trash.  I’m keeping my hens until the city says I can’t.  But would anyone like a rooster?  

Right now he is living in the garage. Hopefully muffled.

P.S. Minutes after I put a period at the end of the last sentence, the same neighbor showed up at my door. It wasn’t CCR’s that denied my right to chickens, but a City Ordnance. ”Except for household pets and as otherwise permitted by ordinance, no person shall keep or maintain livestock, bees of poultry within the city.”

I told her I was too upset to talk and closed the door. I was. And then I had a thought, should I why cave in. Monday I’m going to the city to ask for  permission to keep them as pets.

We’ll see.


The egg on the left is from a backyard chicken. The one on the right is store-bought.

P.S. This neighbor problems is a new experience for me. It tests my diplomatic skills.