There are fifty new chicks peeping in our barn tack room this evening. Not fifteen, fifty. Our children are raising them to show at a local junior livestock competition. Unfortunately, I lost all inspiration to write a creative piece for my faithful followers somewhere between the fairgrounds and our home. Why? Every single chick was incessantly peeping! Classical music on the radio did not soothe them. They did not quiet to learn about the great scientists of history and their discoveries on CD. Nor did they respectively listen to my daughter’s rendition of Mary Poppins’ Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. We tried 10 minutes of silence to be an example to them, and yet they went on peeping. I may have been able to think up something fresh and new to write this evening had they at least tried to harmonize their peeping. So, listen, if you’re ever being tailgated on some rural road one evening, please show some mercy and let ‘em pass. It very well could be a frazzled woman with fifty peeping chicks in her backseat desperate to get home to her franch. You understand, I can not think of anything to say other than “peep.”
You could always add the little noisemakers as appetizers for today’s meal. 🙂 Happy Thanksgiving! Have enjoyed your blogging. Never knew you could write too! 🙂