0142

Another of the young chicks got weak and died late yesterday, so there are just 3 new ones left now. These three seem healthy, as do the six older ones.

It's hot and muggy / buggy, and I let both groups of chicks out; they appear happy, pecking & scratching for bugs (Can dumb animals be 'happy'? Or 'unhappy'? Or are such states unique to humans?) Anyway, I bury the dead chick, and bury a few more potatoes as well. Then I work up a good sweat mowing the yard and driveway, and even caulk & paint a bit on the south wall where I had patched around replacement doors and windows in chilly weather.

Pat drives up to let me know that tonight is 'open book' at the town hall. I wonder why the assessor didn't reveal this to me. So, early evening I corral the chicks back into their respective homes, and bike over. Two other parties are ahead of me; they sound angry and frustrated... I peruse the 'open book', and easily find that a relatively small number of properties, including mine, have been assessed way above neighboring land, for no apparent reason. So, when my turn comes, I ask why. The assessor feigns surprise, asserting that adjoining land should have similar assessed values. But the book clearly shows otherwise. She asks to see what I'm talking about. When I randomly point to my neighbor Cathy's place in the book, her 'surprise' turns to 'shock', and she says, "Oh, my! I guess that parcel needs to be reassessed higher!"

Now I'm really fuming. "So, that's your ploy, is it? Turning neighbor against neighbor, when you know damn well that none of this land is worth what you're claiming! Just what's in it for you?!?" She sweetly tosses me the dry bone she has been dispensing to others: a labyrinthine appeal process as a token to democracy. I have no stomach for this, and just walk out and bike back home. Do bureaucrats realize how their heavy-handed programs and taxes can crush peoples' dreams? Do they care? How is this land suddenly triple the assessed value in one year? What becomes of the plain life if the county forces me to choose between going back to a payroll job or confiscating my land?

I'm exhausted. I check on both sets of chicks, who are settled in for the night, just an occasional soft 'cheep' or ruffle of wings. They know nothing of assessors.

0141

I awake around 2 am. It's raining outside, and cool in the house. The chicks are crying in their box upstairs. I go up, scolding myself, and turn on their lamp for warmth, then back to bed.

Upon rising for the day, I check on them again. Don't know if it was the chill, or if something else is wrong, but one chick is dead, and another very weak. What a lousy mother hen I make.

It's still cloudy, but has stopped raining, so I bike to 10:30 Mass. After Mass, Larry and Linda want to chat over refreshments. I excuse myself after just a brief conversation, explaining that I have a sick chick at home to look after. Linda raises her eyebrows, and I have to laugh when I realize what I just said. Assuring Linda that I'm referring to a literal chick, I take my leave.

It's sunny & warm by now, and I let the new chicks run outside in the grass to peck and scratch and get some sun & air. I even feed them some cut-up earthworms, which they devour. Try to nurse the sick one, too, but it dies mid-afternoon. My only resemblance to a mother is that I'm not getting much rest with all this. Well, the remaining four seem vigorous. I'll leave their lamp turned on full-time from now on.

0140

Make a call from the pay phone to ascertain that my new Araucana chicks have arrived. So I drive into town to pick them up. I'll buy some fencing, too, as the bigger chicks already show a definite delight in scratching up newly seeded garden plots.

My carefully composed letter to the assessor prompted only a cold form response denying my request, so I decide to stop at the assessor's office while I'm in town. But the whole place is locked up, on a Friday, no one there, no way to even leave a note. Figures.

Well, at least the chicks are a delight. Six eager and hungry little hatchlings, cheeping noisily. I stop at Lenore's to show her, and to mow her grass and share in a quick lunch. A couple quick errands at the library and grocery, then back home with my new charges. These will be a bit more work; they'll require warmth and general vigilance until they're feathered.

Back home, I set up a box for the Araucanas in the house, start installing some of the new fencing around the southeast corner, and spend the evening composing another letter to the assessor, appealing to common sense and democratic principles. This exhausts me more than working, and I'm too tired to even take a bath before bed.

0139

Hard frost during the night. Lost all uncovered tomatoes and pumpkins. Potatoes will recover, I think. Even the hardy peas were damaged. Well, that's the risk of planting early. Nothing to do for it but start again. So I spend the day replanting pumpkins, and spot replanting of green beans that had emerged and died. Surprisingly, the newly emerged sweet corn looks OK. So I go ahead with the 2nd planting of corn, too.

The mail brings a new tax assessment; they have tripled the per-acre assessment of the land value, with no explanation why. Do they think this is a platinum mine? I suppose there's some kind of an appeal process; wonder how complicated that might be. In any event, a tripled assessment is neither just nor affordable, so I start to compose a letter to my friendly assessor. I feel tired.

0138

Another little shower during the night, then sunny & pleasant today. I wash clothes, including my heavy bedroll. Can't really get it through the wringer, so I rinse it outdoors in the clean garbage can, wringing by hand and muscling it up onto the lines to dry.

Then turn my attention to patching together the inside of the chicken coop, especially the big gaps around the bottom and other spots that could admit predators or winter winds. Limited time & resources make me adopt - shall we say - somewhat diminished standards. That is to say, I'm cobbling this together with whatever scraps of wood and metal and other material that come easily to hand. I stand back and cluck my tongue at my handiwork - a real Dogpatch look, I have to admit (thinking of Li'l Abner and Daisy Mae and their rickety sheds). But it's functional.

Late afternoon, Mike drives up as promised for a little visit. I greet him with "Welcome to Dogpatch!" Mike looks around at my coop, tarpaper pump house and wood shed, and replies, "I like it. I like Dogpatch."

As I show Mike around, I notice the first few beets are emerging, and some wheat and oats in front. The chicks come back after a full day of scratching & pecking, and appear a little confused by the interior remodeling, but quickly settle down OK.

0137

Sunny & pleasant again. I spend some time transplanting some of the small tomato seedlings outdoors - about 30, if they live. Also plant the rest of the Yukon Golds and some other potatoes.

The chicks have obviously lived their entire short lives indoors; the open pop door does not attract them at all. So I scatter their feed outside today, with a trail of seeds leading through the pop door. Once exposed, they take to the yard like ducks to water, scratching and pecking as nature intended. They'll be fine.

After lunch, I plant a few more beets and carrots until the clouds move in and it starts to rain real nice. The chicks need no prompting now; they scurry into their new home. I close up the coop, and go indoors myself, rest & read a little, make a nice supper, even build a small fire to take the chill out of the house.

The soft rain makes for a comforting lullaby.

0136

Continued clear & dry; the forecasted rain hasn't materialized. The planting is about 60% complete, but the seeds are lying in dry soil. I plant another bed of carrots, then clean up and drive into town, a long time since.

I check out the swap meet at Dan's Feed Bin. Here's a young man - I'm guessing 14 or 15 - whose parents have apparently staked to a little business enterprise. He has raised several hybrid chicks from hatchlings to 4 weeks, so they're feathered out now, ready for a farm environment. The kid is a pretty good salesman, too - I end up buying 4 pullets and 2 cockerels, transferring them to a cage that "just happened" to be in my truck.

After errands, and confession & Mass with Lenore, I get back home and introduce my new chicks into the coop with some water and bread crumbs. I crush & soak some corn & oats to try tomorrow.