Greetings from the End of the World

Holy hell y’all! It’s been ages since I sat down and wrote a blog post. Seeing as the entire world is on pandemic lock down I figured if not now, then when? Get one last one in before the End Times officially kick off. Before the dead rise from the grave to feast upon the living. The huddled masses with wonderfully cleaned asses all sitting at home just looking for something to digest that has an ounce of intrigue and excitement. A story of truth and glory in a world saturated and riddled with misinformation and fear-mongering. The story of the ages.

This post will have none of that.

I’m rusty you see. Haven’t put pen to paper in many months. Words no form so good in squishy brain. But I shall endeavor to try nonetheless. I’ve been on lock down for the last nine days, as most of the world is. Everything is closed except essential businesses. People are fighting for toilet paper for some reason. Who would’ve thought that the apocalypse would begin with TP hording!? No mention of that in my zombie preparedness manuals! Stock markets are crashing, people are freaking out, jobs are being lost left and right. But everyone has the cleanest assholes since the dawn of time. So there’s that.

But enough about those things we cannot control. I’ll just say this, remember to breathe and remember to be kind to people. Don’t let paranoia and fear turn you into a grumpy prick. And stop hording for god’s sake!

I will also say this, my stock portfolio is rather heavy with yummy eggs. My chicken investment was a wise strategy in these dark times. Especially when many stores have empty shelves in the egg department.

So much has happened in my life since last we spoke. Some good, some bad. All strange and interesting though.

Let’s get the sad part out of the way. I haven’t been able to find the strength to write about a rather large loss. The official Mind Your Dirt mascot, and my favorite and eldest chicken, Piper, was taken by a hawk last December. Heartbreaking and devastating to lose that sweet girl of mine. My little covergirl. Here’s one of the last videos I took with her…

She was my very first hen and has had just a huge roller coaster of a life. If you slapped her name into the search bar here, you can see that her life was filled with a lot of ups and downs. But the last few years she was on the gravy train with biscuit wheels. Happy and healthy all the way to the end. She was just pure love in a poofy floofer package.

In order for me to get over the loss, I immediately went out and got two brand new silkie hens. Kinda like therapy. Or distracting myself from grief. One of those things. But now I have Roxy and Raina to help me heal.

Roxy and Raina

Adorable little poofballs! Here they are having a little dust bath yesterday…

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The Case of the Egg-Sucking Possums

When my egg production starts slowing down it typically means that there’s a predator afoot scaring my girls. When production is down AND I begin finding cracked eggs in the laying box I know who the culprit is. Pleasantly plump possums probably pilfering and plundering.

As of the day of this writing, I have captured three fat and shiny egg-filled possums so far. The first one ended up killing poor Telsa last year! Knowing Tesla, she spazzed out, flew off her roost and accidentally started a fight to the death with not-too-cute-but-kinda-cute possum.

Here’s the only footage my security camera got before I logged in and accidentally pointed it downward…

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The Easter Horde.

Happy Zombie Jesus day everyone! Nothing screams (or peeps) Easter morning quite like the sound of a pack of newly hatched chicks. I tried to time their hatching for this morning for significant spiritual impact. They arrived a bit early though. Despite my efforts to stuff them back into crumbling shells. Tenacious and screaming for life, play, and a bit of fresh air they rose a little bit before the Jesus did. Timing is everything.

So no meaningful #Easterjesuschicks without a modicum of revisionist history. So it goes.

It is time for the MYD farms to renew the flock. I now have a small pack of freeloaders that produce fewer and fewer eggs. If any at all. More troops have been deployed to the cozy and warm depths of a darkened incubator via my good friend Aaron over at the East County Zoo. The hens I’ve gotten from him have always been happy and healthy beasts. He was also so very kind to have hand delivered the fertile eggs to the MYD Estates and Luxury Center on his way into town. Well played East County Zoo!

I selected Easter Eggers to help bring some splashes of color to my egg cartons. Aaron also brought over a breed he’s working on which is a mix between a Ayam Cemani rooster and a Black Australorp hen. He asked if I was interested in hatching it. You don’t have to try too hard to talk me into hatching any experimental breeds of any creature. As illustrated below.

So I said yes and loaded up the butt nugget oven. set the knob to Uber Cute Fluff Butt and waited.

There is something within us all. Deep in the gooey center. Lurking and slumbering as we walk this world of coarseness and slander. There in the depth dwells a dim light of hope and pure joy. One of the choicest ways to summon this light is to gaze upon the perfectly round and poofy backside of a fuzzy little baby chick. Then, POW! All the feelings!

Side note: You can really intensify this feeling if you stuff seven baby chicks into your stupid beard-face while they wiggle tiny beaks into neck fat warm cuddle pockets. Try to make your stupid beard face look like a hens ass if you’re able. Wash afterwards of course. Followed by the anointing of the oils. Performed by vestal virgins obviously. I’m no slouch.

Well folks, as you can probably gather with your sexy huge brains, I’m about to show you a bunch of baby chickens. On Easter Morning. No charge at all! So go ahead kids and release that warm light from the cockles of your inner nethers. For I present to you…The Horde!

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