Part III of a three part series chronicling Peep's departure from the Big Apple and her return to Connecticut.
Last we left Peep, she was back on the farm, exploring the new country setting -- dogs and cats and apples oh my! Then it came time to meet her old chickmates. It had been almost a month since they last shared a home.
Peep appeared anxious.
Her fears turned out to be valid. That chicken on the left, below, is Peep's sister. Although you can't tell from this picture, she's at least twice as big as Peep.
A side-by-side comparison.
So it seems, despite the NPR and New Yorker and Brooklyn air , Peep still hadn't caught up in size.
Mom says she's "special".
Well, it turns out chicken's aren't very nice to the "special" ones -- or at least the smaller ones. We put Peep down in the coop and it wasn't pretty. There was some pecking and lots of Peep distressed peeping. That said, it was probably more traumatic for me than her. Regardless, we decided Peep needed a room of her own. One trip to Home Depot later, Peep had her very own country house.
It has a view of the horse. And the other chickens. Peep took to her new hay-lined habitat immediately. Over the past week, we've slowly introduced a few of the nicer chicks to Peep's home; she seems to be making friends. Soon, all the chickens will be big enough to be out of the coops and out on the farm, living the country life.
Peep, however, will always have her Brooklyn pied-a-terre.
And I'll always remember when she was this little.
What are you going to do now that you are Peep-less and blog-less?
Good question. Maybe I'll take advantage of lots of fun free outdoor things. Maybe I'll spend 1,001 minutes making 101 recipes. Maybe I'll finally see that exhibit. Maybe I'll watch cheese ripen. Maybe I'll make it to Coney Island before it's gone forever. Maybe I'll buy this bookstore and rename it Freepeep. I do know that tonight, at least, I will go see my dear friend Miya sing.
Part II of a three part series chronicling Peep's departure from the Big Apple and her return to Connecticut. So after a relaxing Saturday afternoon in the sun, Peep and I left the shore behind and arrived back at The Farm. It was about as far as you could get from her city apartment. Peep had lots to explore.
There were apples.
There were clovers. Finally, something she'll eat!
There was a certain sheepdog, Cassie. She seemed to take quite a shine to Peep.
And Peep seemed quite comfortable as well. (And yes, that's me sounding like a seal).
There were cats.
Minnie, a particular predatory cat, took a decidedly different interest in Peep. After stalking Peep from behind doors and couches, Minnie adopted the "I'm so innocent" pose.
Peep was too smart.
So far, so good. Of course, you'll notice she hasn't met the chickens yet...
Part I of a three part series chronicling Peep's departure from the Big Apple and her return to Connecticut.
A friend recently envisioned Peep's return home:
I have no doubt that you will raise Peep to be a strong and confident chicken, a bird of uncommon street smarts and technological literacy, and that she will one day return to your mother's farm in triumph.
Dear readers, I'm afraid that this eloquent prediction failed to materialize. The story of Peep's departure will take more than one post, but I'll skip ahead far enough to report that Peep is back on the farm and that Brooklyn is a lonelier place for it. I'm thinking of adopting enough of these cuties to create a mess-free aviary.
But back to the story. The weekend started off well enough. Friday night, Peep said her goodbyes to Brooklyn and all the treats she will miss. Her roommates were sad to see her go, but Peep was stoic.I loaded up the Jeep, which was parked on the corner of my block in front of a brand-new wine bar & restaurant. So new, in fact, that they were having an opening night party there. The guests, lounging on the outdoor patio, seemed amused by my trips to the car, first with my head obscured with an unwieldy bag of laundry, and then with an enormous peeping cardboard box into which I was singing the ABCs. They laughed and smiled, sipped their wine. No one offered to help. Brooklynites.
So we hit the highway and left the borough behind, arriving at my childhood home in just about three peep-full hours. The house was quiet; Peep received an enthusiastic welcome nonetheless.Peep reading her sign.I think my Dad could have a second career as an artist :) Bird Song of the Day: Hundreds of Sparrows - Sparklehorse
Last weekend, while driving through lovely Alpine, NJ with a couple good friends, I saw a sign that said "CLOSTER RECREATION COMMISSION". Now, in my crazy, currently subfunctioning brain, I read the sign to say "LOBSTER RECREATION COMMISSION". The idea of such a thing -- lobsters playing tennis? weight training? playing bingo?!? -- made me insanely happy. This lasted about 15 seconds. Then I realized that the sign referred to the town's name, not the crustacean. Oh well.
At least I have a chicken who does morning stretches.
Peep is pretty much queen of the Brooklyn castle these days. Here she is surveying her domain from her perch (my knee). And she's been getting quite the education. In recent days, we've graduated her from music to literature. After the wood chips ran out, I had to switch to newspaper to line her box. Seeing as I don't get the newspaper, I had to resort to the next best thing -- my half-read, ice coffee-stained New Yorker cast-offs. I made sure to start with David Denby movie reviews, but I spared Sasha Frere-Jones the indignity.
She's also been catching up on all the novels published in the last two years. We just finished The Brooklyn Follies; Didion's The Year of the Magical Thinking is the current selection. She's pretty impressed.
Note: I had an adorable picture of Peep reading, but sadly my camera -- like everything else in my apartment (grill, ipod dock, four lights) -- has stopped functioning. Apologies!
In other news, I attended two fabulous weddings this weekend. One included butterflies and peonies, the other donuts and the most whimisical animals-made-of-sneakers (ostrich below). Peep was with me in spirit.
Peep appeared anxious.
Her fears turned out to be valid. That chicken on the left, below, is Peep's sister. Although you can't tell from this picture, she's at least twice as big as Peep.
A side-by-side comparison.
It has a view of the horse.
Peep took to her new hay-lined habitat immediately. Over the past week, we've slowly introduced a few of the nicer chicks to Peep's home; she seems to be making friends. Soon, all the chickens will be big enough to be out of the coops and out on the farm, living the country life.
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