Well, I ordered my seeds. [View all]

Because I believe we are going into a depression, I'm preparing for a victory garden. Never mind that I have never raised a vegetable in my life, I am nevertheless going to sally forth in an attempt to raise something edible. My dog is with me on this, as he seems to want to sample anything I eat.

DU has a gardening forum, so I'm going to spend a lot of time reading there. I'm hoping to obtain chickens, too, although I will have to do something heroic to protect them from bird flu. I don't need many. Maybe only three.

When I was a little girl, my brother had a banty chicken. Every day at about 4 pm, this chicken would come to the back door and cluck to be let on to the porch. She then would climb in the dog's bed and lay one single egg. Then she would demand to be let out, and off she'd go. Many times I'd catch the dog staring at the chicken in his bed.

I don't know what the reasoning was there on the part of Chicken Little, as she was called, and I certainly don't want a chicken laying eggs in my bed, but I'd be grateful for a chicken laying eggs anywhere I can snatch them, times being what they are. So, I think that choosing between the risk of bird flu and starving to death, chickens are the way to go. So, I'm planning for that.

Lots to learn. I am the daughter of a Farmer's Daughter, so there must be a gene or two that I can awaken in order to survive. Clearly, we are losing our country to fascism and a dictatorship. Mark Kelly said that either way the vote went would be a tough choice. I feel betrayed, but then I got my SS, didn't I? So, my choices between chickens and the bird flu are personal and arbitrary, and probably make more sense than the vote did. I dunno.

I intend to make my chickens militant. If I have to eat vegetables, I will. I want to live long enough to see what happens to the Orange Hellbeast, et al. History shows that the authoritarian dictators always end badly. Hell awaits them. I want to celebrate the day he is gone. I plan to sharpen my picket sign skills and march for freedom. Don't mess with Grey Panthers. I'll run over their freaking toes with my wheelchair, then smile and say, "Oops! I'm sorry!" But, I'll still be out there.