Yesterday was spent driving from northern MN to Omaha for a good friend's wedding this weekend. It was not the most pleasant experience...
I had a bad head cold, my back hurt from farm work, and I thought I broke my hand in the night. I also carried two egg-laying hens for Silas and Kimberly.
To back up...I thought I broke my hand because starting around 1:30AM I woke up with my hand HURTING like h@ll!!. I woke up dazed, and pictured myself on a pommel horse, only to take painkilers and fall back asleep for a few hours.
I take painkillers for the ride but still feel the throbbing pain of my hand/wrist during the drive, peak over into the back seat to check on the hens in the back seat. They pop up their heads and occassionaly cluck. They are 'nestled' into a sewn towel because the farmer says they relax when in a tight & dark space. I have a pillow sheltering the sun, above the towel and balancing on the back seat.
I arrived first at Silas and Kimberly's and two of their children came running to see the hens I've brought. Silas opens the towel slowly to take them out and says 'I don't think these hens are alive.' He feels one that has already gone rigamortis and the other one he hits gently on the head to try to 'wake up' from its eternal slumber. I have just driven almost 9 hours with hens shitting and pissing in my back seat to deliver dead hens to good friends.
I had offered these hens to Silas and Kimberly thinking they might want to have fresh eggs in the mornings and they even had an Omaha government worker come out to inspect their yard and certify that it was suitable for hens.
Thankfully the kids seem nonplussed, don't cry or scream. I had asked the farmer specifically if the hens would survive an 8.5 hour drive and he assured me yes.
Thankfully Silas grew up in Kenya and knows how to pluck & cook the dead hens for a future family dinner. Sorry Silas and Kimberly.
While I was there, I asked Silas about my hand and if someone can break their hand while sleeping. Silas said 'for anyone else I'd say no, but I've seen you thrash around pretty good in the night-time.' I knew I tossed and turned, but this was a revelation.
I had dinner with Paul and Ana from Romania last night at the Brazenhead and then slept at Jared & Julie's. As always they were super gracious and kind. When I woke up after a good night's sleep, my head cold had significantly improved and my hand had stopped hurting! This morning it was breakfast with Chris Harrell, in from Romania for his brother's wedding.
Tomorrow is the wedding and then I'll head back to the farm.
I had a bad head cold, my back hurt from farm work, and I thought I broke my hand in the night. I also carried two egg-laying hens for Silas and Kimberly.
To back up...I thought I broke my hand because starting around 1:30AM I woke up with my hand HURTING like h@ll!!. I woke up dazed, and pictured myself on a pommel horse, only to take painkilers and fall back asleep for a few hours.
I take painkillers for the ride but still feel the throbbing pain of my hand/wrist during the drive, peak over into the back seat to check on the hens in the back seat. They pop up their heads and occassionaly cluck. They are 'nestled' into a sewn towel because the farmer says they relax when in a tight & dark space. I have a pillow sheltering the sun, above the towel and balancing on the back seat.
I arrived first at Silas and Kimberly's and two of their children came running to see the hens I've brought. Silas opens the towel slowly to take them out and says 'I don't think these hens are alive.' He feels one that has already gone rigamortis and the other one he hits gently on the head to try to 'wake up' from its eternal slumber. I have just driven almost 9 hours with hens shitting and pissing in my back seat to deliver dead hens to good friends.
I had offered these hens to Silas and Kimberly thinking they might want to have fresh eggs in the mornings and they even had an Omaha government worker come out to inspect their yard and certify that it was suitable for hens.
Thankfully the kids seem nonplussed, don't cry or scream. I had asked the farmer specifically if the hens would survive an 8.5 hour drive and he assured me yes.
Thankfully Silas grew up in Kenya and knows how to pluck & cook the dead hens for a future family dinner. Sorry Silas and Kimberly.
While I was there, I asked Silas about my hand and if someone can break their hand while sleeping. Silas said 'for anyone else I'd say no, but I've seen you thrash around pretty good in the night-time.' I knew I tossed and turned, but this was a revelation.
I had dinner with Paul and Ana from Romania last night at the Brazenhead and then slept at Jared & Julie's. As always they were super gracious and kind. When I woke up after a good night's sleep, my head cold had significantly improved and my hand had stopped hurting! This morning it was breakfast with Chris Harrell, in from Romania for his brother's wedding.
Tomorrow is the wedding and then I'll head back to the farm.
4 comments:
oh wow... just...wow.
as always THANK YOU FOR THE LAUGH!!! love hearing your stories.
brent. i've been laughing about the dead chickens all weekend...but reading your version was even better.
hope you are coming back to omaha soon...
Brent, I feel like the luckiest guy in WMF. I got to be a firsthand participant to two of the best stories i have ever heard (Chicago-Philly, 2004 and now this). Thanks for thinking of us in the first place and thanks for great memories.
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