Copper Chronicles

In our culture, one can “Shake it like a salt shaker” according to a modern pop singer. That seems like a useful idea to keep. One can “Shake it Off” like the pretty blonde one sings quite convincingly. Dancing in a dazzling way helps Taylor Swift make this seem like another useful idea to keep.

I am a Yankee, yes. That is the first part of AA rehabilitation program. Confess. Own your experience. Take responsibility. Make amends. All useful nuggets of wisdom I’ve gleaned from our culture. But, explaining why winning the Civil War was necessary and “good” is a bit beyond the scope of the Chronicles. Plus, I’ve only had one cup of coffee.

I’ve other concerns on my plate, too. Like, is it possible the Statue of Liberty is seeping metallic residue into New York City?

People are constantly over-exposed to poisoning unknowingly by metallic substances. At least in Star Trek. One reliable scientist posited Vincent Van Gogh experienced mercury poisoning 🤔

My generation has been mislead to think precious metals are desirable, like Crypto-nite. But, this is not true of all metal substances. Thanks Hollywood.

You’d think it’d be generally understood never to believe anything you hear or see from Hollywood. Fantasy is it’s MO (Mode of Operation.) Fiction, elation-inducing Drama. So, then TV stations can sell you their latest this and newest that.

That is what that state of agitation, that uncertain feeling of not- knowing- what- is- going- to happen next feeling of anxiety is for. To sell you things. Hollywood and the people who own TV stations clearly think we are monkeys to be trained and mimic what we hear:

“Act like a complete idiot” the television says. “Enjoy the false idea that there are no consequences for acting like an idiot” it agitates on.

On commercials, eat food with no actual nutritional value; buy quasi products made in China that appear like a product but falls apart in 5 months.

Then, if you’ve been programmed essentially from birth you start to believe people are idiots. And, You’re a caveman if you don’t own Geico insurance. And True “Liberty” is buying car insurance!

No wonder it was essential to get mother’s out of the house in the Sixties. Baby Boomers You’ve been duped! Who needs mothers when we can have PBS?

It’s a good thing I don’t watch TV anymore. It’s funner to tune into nature’s signals and watch THAT drama unfold.

Coffee!!

A person can live a long, long, time- hearing things but cannot “know” a thing until s/he experiences it in the flesh. Like the biblical use of “To know,” You know?

“To Experience, to be One with.” I feel my Puritanical, New England-self blushing at the sound of it. But, I am in the state of Virginia now, and Virginia is for Lovers.

😃

Anyhow, you can’t “know” a thing until you experience, it is a useful tool or device or ‘wise word’ I learned in an earlier post and re-remembered today.

Avoiding the too common expression, “It’s funny,” because it isn’t quite funny. It’s more than quirky, or ha-ha laughing funny. ‘More like a clown you don’t quite trust funny. Your kind of on edge, in a not-so-sure-what’s-going- to- happen- next condition. Like that.

Anyhow, in my on-edge condition, I awakened to realize how my head is full of phrases, “isms,” slogans, sayings – half of which I am clueless to their meaning and origin.

That would make me like a monkey, mimicking things I’ve heard, as if I know what these things actually mean. 🤔

Like who is the Iron Lady standing in NY City Harbor? Why doesn’t she let anyone sleep?? Can she be melted down to pay the national debt? What is she actually made of, I wonder. Copper?

She definitely doesn’t give me that cheery happy feeling that Copper- the -Hen, gives me. “Lady Liberty” seems ice- cold like…well…a Statue.

People have been loving, and fun and sweet here. Like I am God’s gift to the world. Not more so than anyone else, of course. That is what makes the experience genuine. I am special just because I am a human being, I think. Such an intoxicating, and disorientating sensation for this coffee- drinking, nervous by comparison Yankee.

I’ve not received any brutal treatment since I arrived in this place. Except, well, either one foolish bird crashed into my window, or a local hostile threw a rock through it.

A pebble really, ‘sort of like a pin prick from my New World that people from Massachusetts are suspect, even in the State of Love.

Perhaps the slogan, “Yankee,” puts the same metallic taste in their mouths, like “Lady Liberty” suddenly puts in mine?

Copper Chronicles has been a happy and harrowing experience both learning how to care for hens and learning how hard it is to be a hen and care for them.

Unlike Lady, my one remaining hen who moved south in search of an hospitable climate for hens, I have no illusions about Copper’s absence. Copper died suffering circumstances beyond my control. Rocky died, too. Rocky was the champion prize fighter hen who did a glorious dirt bath performance, ridding herself of all filth and pests. Emerging victorious from her hard labor, like a phoenix.

I don’t think Rocky ever read Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, but she mastered the concepts precisely. This leads me to believe hens are living on another frequency. And KNOW things. More about that later.

I miss Rocky the most, since I had little time to spend with her. She died, too. In a egg laying tragedy. Bravely and mercifully. Quickly. It may frustrate lovers of language like myself, that my punctuation does not always abide by last century’s rules of punctuation.

James J. Kirkpatrick may never read Hen Chronicles, but he may benefit from the happiness and courage the hens inspire. Snobbery has no benefit that I can think of? I do agree with him that the English language is devolving into utter calamity.

Take for example Simon Cowell. Love his show! But when the judges say: “Your performance was really, really, really, really good,” I ache for articulation! “There called adjectives!!” I shout at the television set, alarming my husband. Anyone know what an adjective is anymore?? Bueller? Bueller?? Hello?

Looks like this generation took too many days off from school. Or, perhaps modern educators don’t know what adjectives are either? Who needs to communicate clearly and effectively anymore when we have emojis to do it for us?😃

Anyhow, I have a good excuse for breaching last century’s rules of articulation when I say: “Rocky died. Bravely and mercifully. Quickly.” The reason IS: the period separates thoughts. Meaning pause and reflect. Each part is significant and important. Articulating clearly what you have experienced helps you own what you are experiencing. And make sense of it.

Owning our experience is how we live effectively and stop doing stupid things😃. Like owning the tragedy that I don’t know whether a “performance is good, or terrific, or beautiful?” And whether to use adverbs or adjectives to describe performances? 🤔

All I know is Simon Cowell says: “Your performance was really, really, really, really good” sometimes. Seems like our generation needs more words.

It occurs to me that the volumes of Non-sense stirring around this world means the universe is speaking. Loudly!

If I could summarize what I’ve learned from my Copper Chronicles journey it’s this: there is a tornado of Non-sense moving across the planet- destroying everything in its path. Hens know that instinctively. That is why everyday they were about the business developing their expertise at whatever they were designed to do.

In hens’ case, hunting and pecking and staying extremely in tune to their environment. Though lowly they may be in stature and social status, they are more diligent and sensible than most humans I know. In an environment prone to chaos, they keep their heads down, attuned to their business. Like Joseph Conrad’s ferry captain in the Heart of Darkness.

It’s humbling to know that I have been talking for months in this journal. Discovering what there is to know and trying to make sense of my journey. And, my concluding summary is contained in one paragraph above:

Be diligent doing what you are designed to do. Keeps your head down (for safety) from debris flying in the tornadoes. Stay in tune to your environment. Listen. The Universe is Speaking!

I can’t speak for Lady on this matter. She is just a hen afterall. However, if I had a friend who was a hen, I’d like to consult her on these matters. And think she shared my Awe and Wonder at it all.

Hens are loving creatures and have highly in-tuned sensitivity to their environment. They no more than you think! As we discovered in an earlier post called “Hens on the Lamb.”

For example, there’s some things that don’t make any sense. As I learned in the beginning of Copper Chronicles experience, there ARE things that make sense. And, I posit these things are “good” because who likes to be confused?? Unless you’re into drugs where confusion is fun, to some, I suppose.

I think Lady would agree with me that things that don’t make sense may be generally called: “Things that do not make sense.”

I am not nearly qualified to judge the “goodness” or “badness” of many things. But, something that doesn’t make sense is questionable. It’s like the universe is saying: “Hello! You, there! The one I told you to NOT to spread too much hay in the hen pen and you ignored me anyway. Yah, You!!”

I am grounded suddenly with equal parts Fear and Wonder! Who, Me?

People don’t usually talk to me. Nobody ever talks to my friend, Lady, sad to say. Neither of us mattered much in the scheme of things, we imagined. I guess there’s a huge mistake at believing what other people think.

New England can be a beautiful and scary place. If I may make an allusion to feminity generally speaking, without someone throwing a rock at my window. I’d compare New England to a beautiful and terrifying woman.

If you slack off, people don’t like you. Largely because no culture that I can remember in history ever valued useless people. Does any farmer, say: “I have labored hard, day after day, for the reward of harvest. Here everybody (who has not labored for it) Help yourself! It’s FREE.”

I think the hardy folk upon whom our lives depend, would say that I am right about this. Who works a lifetime except to derive some future benefit from their labor?

When things don’t make sense, the universe is speaking! Yah, you!!

Moving South began a big adventure. Having only lived in New England, Lady longed to escape the cold. And continue the quest for finding happiness that has, since Copper’ disappearance, largely eluded her.

This is a hot place for a cold-hardy hen, she thought. Lady was born and bred to survive in cold climates. No one actually explained that to her. She wasn’t born with a manual attached to her like, “Life’s Little Instruction Book for Hens.”

Perhaps seeking happiness meant more than escaping the harsh environmental elements- like freezing cold and food shortages. And hungry predators eager for a meal.

Now that Lady left the environment she was born to thrive in, what next? What to do when all the mechanizations that sustain your life become irrelevant? Clearly her hen breeding helped her thrive in New England. Now that she’s down South, so what?

It’s not clear whether she’s betrayed some code of scientists, or rebelled against some universal Law by making her own choice.

But, that is what she signed up for, to be free to find these things out for herself. She was certain that was what Copper’s ancestors taught Copper, and Copper told them at the hen pen. That THAT was THE CODE.

Seems like finding things out for yourself proves much harder than she thought. It feels kind of chilling and lonely- even though she is sweating in heat. There are lots of people here and they seem happy. But it’s not clear why.

Lady decided the best thing to do was not fret and fuss about her circumstances. But, to do what she could about them. Northfield and the greater world at large seemed an inhospitable environment. Any wilderness seems inhospitable, I suppose, except this one is also cold half the time. She noticed other birds moving South last Fall. Now she understood why.

There’s a disadvantage of being a hen in this world she also noticed. She is a bird like other birds, but she can hardly fly. As if she’s been on a pro-longed weight increasing diet. And her wings don’t seem nimble and free to move about like other birds. Why does such a bird exist, one with wings but can not fly?

She also noticed she has a size disadvantage. She’s not wiry and well, cocky, like Rooster. It sure would come in handy to be a bit fiercer looking, and to have people think twice about messing with you. Seems like a hen is just a meal walking around with no source of protection. Perhaps that’s why pens are best?

In the absence of her safe pen, she decided not to go about too freely. She learned how to stealthily walk about in her garden at Mulberry Farm in Northfield. Go about a few paces, looking all around. Rest by a small shrub or shadow to avoid being exposed to danger unnecessarily. Rocky, her friend, was stealthy. She was a speckled Barred Rock hen that was so mysterious and stealthy, Lady wondered whether she’s with the CIA. “Conspiracy theory” humans say condescendingly.

Well, it’s possible there are theories abounding to explain the wilderness we are experiencing. But, why would a word exist if at least some of the theories were not true? Why be such a word “conspiracy” at all?

In our last Copper Chronicle, Lady the Hen left her “farm” to find her friend, Copper. She didn’t like the commercial food pellets they were not as fun as chasing bugs and digging fresh worms. She didn’t like her cubicle, where she was confined in the name of efficiency. Efficient for whom? She wondered. It doesn’t seem like any creature can be “efficient” in a cubicle, unless you give them lots of caffeine, sugary treats, and a looming mortgage to make them so.

The right to be free from boxes seems universal. Lady is just a hen, and she senses that to be true. It’s not clear why human beings are still living in cubicles. Perhaps they have no choice?

Lady followed the wide road that led to Holyoke. She was hungry and went to a Red Robin where she saw a few stray people wandering into. They seemed hungry, too. She slid up to the bar very casually and took a seat. It was fun to see what humans see and do what humans do. She hoped by acting casually she would fit in, and no one would notice she was a hen. The human being behind the bar was very friendly and happy. It’s not clear why.   

Maybe she had never seen a hen in a bar before? Hens are happy and lovable by nature when they are free to live and breathe and roam as hens should. Every person who knows a hen knows this. A hen is a friend if you believe them to be so and treat them so.

A friendly man on a stool aside Lady ventured to say hello. He seemed also a soul on a quest looking for refuge. He mentioned the empty buildings and homeless people, the drugs, and broken families. He reflected with great contentment about the well-being of his own family. But he was still sad for everyone else.

Lady understands this, too. Lady knows what a family is like from her happy days with Copper. Copper looked after her hens diligently. Hens were never alone- were happy and free to do what hens to best! Hunt and peck, scratch, and shuffle. Lady misses those days. Seems like missing happy days is also universal (for hens and humans.)

If Lady continues this train of thought, she may never make it out of Red Robin. Bold quests require bold courage. She wished the friendly neighbor and bartender well and continued out the door to see the world. The world beyond her happy pen- away from her friends- where everything made sense and every day was fine.

In our last episode of Copper Chronicles, Lady the hen escaped her new home to avoid being tagged by a well-meaning farmer. She is loose in western Massachusetts, and I am concerned for her well-being.

I don’t know about you but being “tagged” can be detrimental to a hen’s health. Whether a tag is a digital one for ‘safety’ or any kind of tag or label- not everyone who tags or labels a hen is qualified to do so. No chick dreams of being “Hen number A7B12” when she grows up.

Lady is much more than a number. Lady has heart!

The situation Lady is escaping is like Animal Farm and Brave New World combined AND on steroids. Perhaps this is the “Horror” the Joseph Conrad character speaks of in “The Heart of Darkness.” Human Imagination detached from any restraining influence of culture or moral law.

People posit that Lady’s ordeal is punishment because she is victim to the random will of some deity. Her ordeal has a purpose to be sure. She is looking for her friend Copper, who was taken away in the same box she arrived in at the Old Wendell Road Farm. Copper was her friend and fearless leader at her first pen.

Copper was bright and shiny like a copper tea kettle. Cheery and happy, too! Diligent and careful about her hen friends. She was the mother hen by nature, and she excelled at her duty. Everyday Lady and her three friends had adventures and challenges. Everyday Copper’s light and love lead the way.

Things made sense, she lived securely free from farmers’ conveyor belt lifestyle with commercially produced food. Compacted compounds in little capsules! How convenient is it to get processed food delivered to your box to be fattened up for slaughter. Maximizing profitability for the farmer and misery of the hens.

Who does the FDA work for anyway? Clearly not hens. When is maximizing profit the whole goal of our existence?  

Run, Lady, Run!!

Languages are “fluid” I discovered. The original English language of Henry Higgins is probably only found among English Lords or an ancient ruling class there. This is just as well, for hens and humans alive in the modern world don’t always have time to work out what “Wherefore” actually means if someone said it.

Archaic words are like a rare bird which flies into your uncelebrated existence and asks: “Do you know where I may find some Cognac?”

         Or maybe the experience of “The Shawshank Redemption” story serves well. The prisoners are muddling around in humiliation and defeat, when Tim Robbins (rare bird) plays an opera song which sounds like beautiful birds singing in glorious celebration. Sounds are strange and breathtaking and transports you to another world. The experience interrupts your morose meditation and you are glad it did!

Shakespeare used words like “Wherefore” but according to Miriam-Webster dictionary, “Wherefore” means more like “Why?” in our modern day.

Lady is pining for her friend, Copper, as Juliet pines for Romeo. “Wherefore art thou?” accordingly cries my little hen friend. Or: “Why are you separate from me?” “What is the cause of our great divide??”