We knew it was the wind plexus of the planet when we moved here. We’d lived with wind before—even tornadoes. But the wind wasn’t the villain so much as the clown.
The clever little chicks we acquired two weeks ago are growing fast. I thought perhaps the feed store had unknowingly received ostrich chicks instead of chicken chicks, but they look just like our grown Rhody hens looked when they were chicks. The chicks actually are a little more clumsy than they are clever.
My husband went into our shop this morning on his usual routine chore circuit, to get the mature chickens’ food and bring it up to their outdoor house, retrieve Cat Halvor’s bowl so I can wash and fill it with his morning refill; and check on the chicks, whose hutch is in the shop and warmed with a heat lamp.
Our shop is a kind of life axis, housing Halvor, the dory and skiff my husband built in the shop, tools for working on our vehicles and everything else, and the chicks, who possess concurrently the traits of precocity and stupidity. The shop itself also is important to us, having made our home remodeling projects possible as well.
This morning my husband discovered the chicks’ heat lamp had been overturned and the air in the shop was smoky. A fire could have started had he not discovered the downed heat lamp when he did.
The mortifying news shook me terribly hard, harder than the 30 mph wind. The thought of coming so close to such emotionally devastating losses as well as material loss has been ruggedly visceral.
But the wind, the wind. . .30 mph gusts lifted one of our plastic trash containers, pulled off the latched lid, liberated the liner bag which immediately became airborne and flew down our steep driveway ahead of the low-flying container, and uplifted the bag-tied kitty litter scoopings and other items formerly secured in the container, and all sailed down the road to unaccustomed freedom.
I called my husband, and he came home and fetched the runaway trash container. Its erstwhile contents were not readily retrievable.
I can’t say a good time was had by all, but I will say that I am boundlessly thankful for the kind grace of our Lord, who knows what we can bear, in sparing us a fire.