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Monday, September 1, 2008

Chickens...

...I was sitting in the Straight White Backyard this morning, enjoying my morning coffee and watching the lovely Fiona as she reclined on the hammock... a breeze gently rustled the leaves – even now bearing traces of red and gold - overhead... random acorns dropped from the heights...

...it was the perfect Tennessee Morning, rubberneckers... all was well with the world...

...until a high-pitched squawk shattered the blissful near-silence...

...Damn, I thought, there’s always some hammerhead standing at the ready to disrupt the perfect morning... I grabbed my trusty shovel and headed out to the street in front of the house, whence came the sound...

...“hope it’s not a zombie,” I thought... and, happily, it was not...

...I got there just in time to see a chicken – a chicken, rubberneckers – high-tailing it across the street, with a horde of screaming chipmunks in hot pursuit... the ’munks, in turn were being chased by a swarm of bees, in turn being chased by a pack of black widow spiders...

...you can say what you want about small-town Tennessee, but it is never boring...

...mercy...

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