Rachael

No, we don't have any chickens. Not yet.

Lala has been pushing for chickens for a while now. At first, I thought she was just plain crazy. We had chickens when I was a kid, and I remember them as nasty, smelly creatures. We were paid a penny a snail to pick them from the gardens and pitch them out of the bucket to the chickens. Have you ever tried to throw snails out of a bucket? They stick.

Unpleasant memories there.

So everytime she's brought up the idea of chickens, I've said either NO WAY IN HELL or if you get chickens, you're on your own, buddy.

Which is why I'm astonished to find that I want chickens.

Suddenly. Out of the blue. I would like three chickens. I would like eggs. I have no interest in eating a pet chicken, not because I couldn't (although that's a distinct possibility) but because I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I couldn't kill one. It's hypocrisy, yes. But there it is. Novella Carpenter is able to kill her own poultry, and she's rad and is a fellow Oaklander. (If you haven't read her classic on urban turkey-killing in Salon, you must read it here.) But not for me. No.

But chickens! In a nice little hutch, with a nice-sized enclosed run, which could be moved around the yard to help with both fertilization and weed control? Totally free-range during the hours we're home to keep an on both them and the garden, free-range outside in their wire pen when we're not? Under the trees? Eggs?

And they're so pretty.

But money is an issue. Chickens are dirt cheap, maybe four bucks each. But the housing is where it gets you. We could build a chicken coop, yes. I've done some (okay, a LOT) of research already on them, and there are some great plans out there. But after the cost of lumber and tools (we really have no tools to speak of), it would cost the same as other options. The Eglu iMac house for chooks is DIVINE, but comes to more than $800 with shipping (ouch!). We ain't got that kind of scratch.

We have already dogeared our copy of Murray McMurray. Loving Backyardchickens.com. And Gwen has promised us a tour sometime of her coop.

Any clever ideas? Anyone with a chicken coop they want to offload? Anyone with stories? Mmmm?

Lala brought something home from work for me yesterday.

A blanket. Made for me by readers who love me. Started for me when Mom died.

It's one of the most perfect, gorgeous presents I've ever received. I am completely undone by it. (Look, above, see how (formerly) no-blog Rachel and Dani made identical trees of life? They're on either side of Lyssa's heart, which is below Celia's winged hearts, which is flanked by Jove's stripes. Wait. Let me take a minute. I just really looked at Celia's. It's four hearts, with the winged one above. Dad, me and my sisters each have a heart below. That just broke my heart in the good way.)

 

I could go on and on, but my fingers would break, looking up the linkages. Trust me that there are stripes, and hearts, and a turtle, and Digit's paws. There is a lovely square Michelle made on the first anniversary of her mother's death. There is lace inspired by something I made once, and five squares, one for each of Mom's family, knit in my small hometown by someone I've never met.

Darling, talented Krista of KnitDelaware was the drive behind this. I can't imagine the hours she put into sewing these all together, and she did a gorgeous job. I love the black — nothing else would have tied all these squares together.

Please don't feel badly if you didn't know about this blanket. I think what put me over the edge last night as I touched every square was how many people's names I didn't recognize right off the bat. They weren't all the usual suspects. Krista just emailed a random sampling of commenters, asking if they'd like to contribute, and she said the envelopes came flying in. This was amazing to me. And so many of them came with cards, and notes, little descriptions of which square was whose (which wasn't necessary: Krista did such a lovely job with the square map she sent along with it, but I love the descriptions sent — colors, yarn samples, sketches, reasons why the knitter chose the yarn she did).

It is one of my most prized possessions. It will be years before a cat will be allowed to settle on it. If ever. One tried, earlier. No way. Miss Idaho eyed it covetously. No. It is on my reading chair in my writing room, and I draped it over my lap this morning as I wrote.

I have never touched anything that was made with more love. I am verklempt.

I have SO much to tell you. I had a very full day yesterday, very full indeed. I think I'm just going to slap the pics in here and then narrate them, because otherwise, I have no idea where to start. Seriously, go refill your coffee. You might be here a while.

In the morning, my sisters Bethany (on the left) and Christy (on the right) went to the Oakland protest.

Don't you want Dumbledore to be happy? Let him marry! Equal rights for Sulu! I was with the geek squad! And happy about it, too.

There were a LOT of people in Oakland, which was a big relief. I'd been kind of nervous that everyone would cross the bridge and go to the huge SF protest and that there would be thirty of us in Oakland, standing around looking at each other, but that didn't happen. It was enormous and uplifting:  

The pocket vegans were there:

 

There were only two people protesting the protest across the street. A bunch of us had the same idea at the same time: cross the street and make it look like No on Prop 8 was on both sides of the street! I thought we did a really job at this. Someone driving by would just think No on 8 were the only people there, especially since one of the two protesting had a sign that said Gay = Pervert, only he used the HRC Equality symbol, so he looks like he's on the No side, from a passing car glance.

 

Then one of the organizers came and talked to us, one by one. He was surprisingly eloquent, because I was ready to tell him where to stick it when I heard he was moving down the line, asking us to go back to the other side. But he explained that while we could obviously do whatever we wanted, they'd really appreciate it if we left the two of them there. By themselves. Lonely and embarrassed, on the far side of the street. He had a really good point, although I could see it from both sides. Below, the two lone protesters (and one gal who was No on 8 — you can see that nice organizer boy in the blue shirt on the right — he's going to talk to her).

PS – Both those guys holding signs? Closet cases. You just know it. 

 

These ladies were on stilts and dancing.

It was an awesome thing to be at. I'm glad that we went. Fight! Fight!

Then I went home to grab a disco nap, because I had a Very Big Night to come.

I drove to the City for the Night of Writing Dangerously. Bethany, who is also doing Nanowrimo, wanted to raise money for their literacy program. With $200 dollars raised, she got to go to this exclusive benefit soiree. For $300 raised, she got to take a friend (ME! ME!). A reader (anonymous and GORGEOUS — you know who you are, I don't, but THANK YOU!) donated enough to get not only Bethany in, but me too, and at the last minute, the Nano people let her bring ANOTHER friend (our fellow Nano'er Laura).

I beat Beth and Laura there. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay for long, because I was double-booked, and I didn't know if I would even get to see Beth, since she was stuck on the other side of the Bay in a traffic jam. I was sad. I sat outside in my car and considered whether I was brave enough or not to go inside by myself. (Normally I don't mind going to things by myself. But I was already nervous about the rest of my night and the thought of going in and making friends was exhausting.)

But I did. I got in line right as the doors opened. Chris Baty (the founder of Nanowrimo –he is so seriously swoon-worthy, I swear to god) was there at the front door and shook every person's hand as he or she came in. When he got to me,  he looked right at me (he might have remembered me from last year when I hit on him, maybe not), and he asked how my writing was going. (Don't worry, Lala thinks it's cute.)

I believe I said something like this: "Oh, my god, I just sold my Nano! For a three-book deal! At auction! To HarperCollins! I just wanted to let you know! That's why I'm here! Dude!"

To his eternal credit, he said, "Oh, my god! That's awesome! Email me! And you should speak here later tonight! You should inspire people with your story!"

Whereupon I said, "Oh, my god! I have to go soon! And give a reading!"

The people in front of me and behind me were quite surprised. One guy (hi, Eric!) was nice enough to let me hang out with him, and he was a doll, bragging on me to perfect strangers. Ain't nothing like that to make a girl feel good.

Of course, I forgot to get pictures (but Bethy did). It was straight class, yo. They really did a gorgeous job. The theme was NanoNoir, and people were encouraged to noir it up, which they did. Lookee: a whole bunch of people eating, drinking, and WRITING (in the dark):

Laura and Bethany!

Man, Bethany looks like Mom somehow in that photo. 

 

Here, I must say, she looks more like me. She got that hat specially for the night. How CUTE is that? Must steal. 

I did get to hang out with them for a little bit before I left, and then I jetted across the bridge feeling Oh-So-Writerly. In my station wagon. Yeah. But in my mind it was a little black MG, you know?

At Knit-One-One, we found out that Jesse Loesberg had decided to talk his wife into having twins that day, just so he could get out of the reading. So he wasn't there (you were missed, Jesse!). But neither Peggy Vincent nor I welcomed two infants into our lives that day, so we had no excuse.

Nor would I have wanted one, even though I was hella nervous. It turned out to be awesome. Sile put on a wonderful night, as she always does. Peggy was great (love her book), and I was a spazz. I kind of spazzed out all over the place, as you can see here:

What you can't see are my shoes, which are SO CUTE. Trust me, lace up black thirties style heels. They made the reading better. 

Peggy is laughing at me.

And there were a ton of wonderful, interesting people there who wanted to talk writing! Why hadn't I thought of that? I kind of thought at a knitting/writing reading (!) there would be more knitting talk, but there wasn't. It was mostly writing talk, and I was SO HAPPY. (Although talking knitting is nice, too.)

WHY do I go so red? Ack.

Sister Christy gave me the best compliments that meant more than anything. Even Chris Baty telling ME I was swoon-worthy wouldn't hold a candle to the way she made me feel special and talented. (I loved when someone asked how long we'd been friends and we gave each other a look that said, A REALLY LONG TIME.)

Okay. Enough about yesterday. Allow me to flash back for just a moment to last week. My RWA chapter gives a white rose to members with first sales. I'd been DYING for a white rose. The day before my meeting last week, after the deal was official, Lala brought me these:

She swears she didn't even know about the white rose deal with RWA. It was just a fluke. One of the best flukes ever. A week a a half later, they're still so damn beautiful. I think they're the best flowers I've ever received:

And one last thing I HAVE to share with you. My gift from Rachel O.  

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Srsly. I am so getting a chain and wearing it around my neck.

Heh. Today: Brunch with friends. Writing. Cooking tonight. Work week starts tomorrow, but it's a short week, so that's good. Yes. Very good.

Tomorrow, Saturday, is the day you can do something about California's Prop 8, even if you live in another state. There will be a protest near you in the ACLU's Nationwide Join the Impact Protest. I'm going to be at Oakland City Hall with my family. Join us there, or elsewhere. This is, I think, one of the most compelling arguments I've heard so far:

It's almost as compelling as Erika's argument against one of the myths:

This one always makes me chuckle.

If allowing child molesters, serial killers, death row prisoners,
meth addicts, neo-nazis, corporate polluters, rapists, people who let
their dog poop on the sidewalk and don’t pick it up, tobacco company
executives, dog fighting enthusiasts, and serial drunk drivers to get
married doesn’t “cheapen the institution,” what will?

GO HERE to find out where you can be tomorrow.

PS – Thank you all, my darlings, for your kind congratulations yesterday. I really am still dancing in chair. Almost constantly. I actually pulled my trapezius muscle from doing the happy dance. I am not making that up. It's worth it, though.