Lesson 964 – Quotable Chicks

Friday’s Quotes for the Chicks


Because we’re still under Nature’s House Arrest, as it were, no one (especially the Valentine Fairy) got a chance to get out for some holiday treats.

As such, I’ve had to dig into our, ahem, bit dated supply.

But there you go, not only do New Englanders know that “you never know”, but apparently, in a crunch, we also always know how to make do with what we have.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone.

Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at Wendy@SimpleThrift.com

Also, join me on Facebook to find out more about the flock (children and chickens) and see some pretty funny chicken jokes, photos of tiny houses, and even a recipe or two.

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Filed under Chick Literature, Chicks, Holidays, Inspiration, Life Lessons, Personal, Quotable Chicks, The Family

6 responses to “Lesson 964 – Quotable Chicks

  1. Happy Valentine’s Day to you and your family, including the chickens.

  2. I have long told my wife that she is an alien. As she is small, alert, and lively, after I saw the Mae West, W. C. Fields movie, MY LITTLE CHICKADEE I decided she is a chickadee from the planet of the chickadees. “Do you come in peace to our planet? What do you think of our planet?” I ask her. “Oh, damn,” she replies, “I forgot my death ray. I guess I will allow you to survive for another day.”

    We have been married for 48 years. I guess that every day my small but giant chickadee allows me to survive counts as another valentine.

    Today, “Big Mama” (my wife’s favorite hen and chief in the flock pecking order) looked at me through the chicken run gate. “What would you like for a Valentine’s Day present?” I asked her. She looked at me. “I wish you were as small as a mouse,” she replied. In the woods I heard the barred owl hooting, even though it was 10 am in the morning. “Wouldn’t you like to take a walk in the woods and add Mr. Owl to your flock?” I asked.

    “In your dreams,” replied Big Mama.

    As a child I read a lot of science fiction. The world’s shortest and most frightening science fiction story runs something like this.


    As I’ve had a lot of experience with crime, both violent and “white collar,” I volunteer for the Island County Sheriff’s Civil Patrol. We are not allowed to carry guns or other weapons, and we are not allowed to approach crime scenes or try to arrest anyone or intervene in a situation such as an arrest. But you never know. So I wear very heavy boots. Mostly we patrol vacation homes or homes of people on vacation, as the sworn deputies are spread very thin. (We are supervised by a female deputy — a sergeant in the local pecking order — who is three inches taller than my 5’11”. I know she is very strong and could easily beat me up. (She has made very difficult arrests.) She is also very polite. After subduing a criminal, she would, I am sure, be very polite as she put the handcuffed suspect in the squad car, “Be careful. Duck your head, and don’t bump your head on the roof,” she would say as put them in the back seat and fastened their seat belt.

    On the last two weeks where my civil volunteer partner and I made our rounds to inspect vacation homes, we tested to see if doors were locked. Twice in a row, I tried doors to see if they were locked, and the door knob turned easily, indicating the door was unlocked. Guess what we found? Well, that’s in my next comment, so keep reading Lessons Learned from the Flock. Assuming I live that long and do not succumb to senility in the meantime. You never know about these things. Also, you may congratulate me on celebrating my 70th birthday. (My father died at 43, so I was a bit surprised.)

    • Wendy Thomas

      That is one of the best short short stories I have ever read – one of those that will stay with you.

      Looking forward to what happens next with regard to the vacation homes.

      And congratulations my friend, Happy Birthday and here’s to many, many more. You certainly add to my days with your stories and wit.

      And speaking of stories, have you heard of the book Helter Shelter (nothing to do with Charles Manson) by Ann Combs. It’s about living on Bainbridge Island on Puget Sound, and maybe it’s because you’ve mentioned that you live on an island over there, but I think of you, your wife and your fine cast of characters each time I open the pages.


      On Fri, Feb 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM, Lessons Learned from the Flock wrote:


      • Thank you. Many years ago, I worked very closely with a man, Ray, who had been a Navy Seal in Vietnam. At the time, Navy Seals did not have the notoriety that they do now (Green Berets were more the rage then), but in his company I felt as if I was in the presence of the most dangerous person I have ever known, though I did not feel in danger myself. In fact, I felt as if I was probably safer than anywhere else I might be. In fact, while I am sure that Sylvester Stallone (a movie star who is probably in good enough shape to probably make it difficult for someone who tried to jump him in a dark alley, I figured Ray was probably closer to the real “Rambo” than anyone else I would ever meet. As it’s Valentine’s Day, I am reminded of a very romantic story Ray once told me about his first love, her husband (an undercover police officer) in Washington D.C. and women who have an unhealthy attraction toward dangerous men. Well, that’s another story for another day, if I don’t forget. I should also mention that the man I will just call “M,” my partner in the Sheriff’s Civil Patrol, originally a British citizen, is probably the second most dangerous person I have ever met (after Ray), though he does scare me a bit. In fact, I am kind of carefully and discreetly looking around for a different partner. Perhaps a lady. Though as Kipling said, “The female is the most dangerous of the species.” I am reading a lot of books, though my eyes tire more easily and I use eye drops more and more often, but I will try to squeeze in Helter Shelter.

  3. As far as the vacation homes my fellow Sheriff’s civil patrol deputy and I were checking and found doors open . . . and found unlocked, we reported them to the Island County non emergency law enforcement phone number and they sent out a deputy. I later called to ask if they had been checked, and was told they had been checked. The island emergency management services operate on a “need to know” policy, and I presume they decided that’s all I need to know. Life is like that. None of us needs to know everything.

    As far as the Valentine’s day story about Ray (who had been a Navy Seal and perhaps the most dangerous man I have ever known, though I felt perfectly safe around him), here’s how it goes. We became friends because we were both working for a “start up” company in the days when Microsoft and Apple were still little (barely known) companies. I met both Bill Gates and Steve Jobs when they were still “little cockerels” in the entrepreneurs who start great companies and become mighty roosters leading great industrial flocks of the computer/Internet business world. Of course, for everyone of the little cockerels who become great heads of flocks, there are perhaps a thousand baby roosters who end up in the stew pot or get carried off by eagles. Are my metaphors mixed enough for you?

    Anyway Ray and I worked for a company that did not flourish. The owner, who started the company, and his dad, (who worked for his son as the head of the sales department) were not exactly weasels, but when the light was dim, it was hard to tell the difference. Though not quite as intelligent as coyotes and raccoons, but somewhere in that family. So Ray and I became friends, in an odd way. Ray had the fastest reflexes of anyone I have ever met, and was very quick to go into combat mode. On the other hand, in the world of vicious company politics, I would sometimes say to Ray, “Calm down, you are jumping to conclusions too quickly; you are not in the jungles and swamps of Viet Nam anymore; take a little time to hear the other side of the story before you pull out that knife strapped to your ankle.”
    Anyway, one day at lunch, Ray got a long distance phone call. I should add that Ray was very handsome (and, of course, very fit). If Hollywood was casting for a movie about Navy Seals in Viet Nam, a casting director would have said, “This is the actor we want!” Also, he exuded the kind of “I am so dangerous,” vibes every young lady who wants an exciting “bad boy” in her life was instantly attracted. Even though Ray at the time I knew him was happily married with a young son, whenever we were at a party or social affair, withim half an hour many attractive women were in his vicinity, something like moths around a flame.

    So anyway, after Ray finishes his phone call, he rejoins me where I am eating lunch. He is laughing his head off. “What’s so funny?” I ask him.
    He stops laughing long enough to tell me. “That was my first girl friend, in Washington, D.C, where I went to high school. It was the first sexual experiences for both of us, so we were very inexperienced and uptight. I left to go to college for a while, and then I joined the Navy Seals and went to Viet Nam. I lost all track of her and I haven’t really thought about her very much since.

    He continued, “So I was very surprised to get a phone call from Rita [her name]. Somehow, she managed to track me down here in Oregon and call me here at work. She said, “Ray, I am so glad I was able to find you again. When we were first together, I was very young, and very uptight about sex. But I am a lot older now and a lot more experienced. If you ever come to Washington, D. C. on business or for any other reason, perhaps we should get together and make up for lost time. I could provide a much more exciting experience.

    As a matter of fact, the business we both worked for involved quite a bit of travel, and Ray did have reasons to go to Virginia (close to Washington D.C.) from time to time. Ray did not say this to Rita, because his antennae (well attuned to danger, because that’s how you survive if your a Navy Seal in combat and so on) were sending him warning signals.

    Ray asked Rita, “What about you and your life now? Are you married or anything? I’m married now and have a kid, so I doubt it would be a good idea for us to get together and try to make up for lost opportunities and experiences.”

    Rita continued according to Ray, “Well, yes, I am married now, but I see no reason why we should let that interfere with our having a little fun.”

    Ray asked Rita, “Well, just out of curiosity, what does your current husband do for a living?”

    Rita answered, “You don’t need to worry about him. He’s away a lot of the time. In fact, he’s an undercover police officer for the Washington D.C. Police department.”

    At this point Ray started laughing very hard again. When he gained control of himself, he said, “That would be all I would need. I am sure it would be a very good idea to have an affair with a woman whose husband is authorized to carry weapons, dress in plain clothes, put himself in dangerous situations, and use his weapons in situations where not too many questions are asked why he had to shoot someone in “self defense.” He started laughing again. He finished, “I told her if I am ever in D.C. Again, I would try and look her up. I said, “I will call you. Please don’t call me at work again.”

    I was left contemplating men who like danger and women who find being around dangerous men their favorite aphrodisiac. I suppose (by volunteering for the Sheriff’s Civil Patrol) I have about 1 ten thousandth of Ray’s temperament, and by marrying me my wife has about 1 ten thousandth of his wife’s and his girl friends’ temperaments. I guess it takes all kinds.

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