After a long, busy weekend I've picked up the fight to keep my hens. My sleep is uneasy at night and I'm feeling pretty tired, but I just can't give the girls up easily. I wrote a letter to the editor of the Chicago Tribune (with considerable help from Mark) and it is appearing on the web site now. I'm hoping this means it will be in print tomorrow since it wasn't in today's paper.
Meanwhile, the hens are oblivous and continue their carefree lives of eating and scratching around the yard. I linger a bit longer in the morning with them thinking that the days of doing so may be numbered.
Yesterday, I felt pretty mopey and cried once or twice. It's pretty easy for me to come to tears when I think about having to give them up. How would you feel if you were told it may just become illegal to keep your dog or cat and you'll have to get rid of it next month? Wouldn't you feel sad, too?
I have a very full week at work and then Mark and I are leaving on a vacation to Esalen in Big Sur. It's remote and isolated, and when we booked the trip I was looking forward to the peace and the opportunity to let go of my incredibly busy life for a short time. Now I'm just feeling anxious that I won't be able to keep in touch with what's going on back here regarding the future of my hens. And, I keep thinking that it is a week I will miss seeing them, too.
At Esalen my Treo won't work, so I won't be able to make calls or check email. The closest Internet is a few miles away up Highway 1 at the Henry Miller Memorial Library, and if we want to make a phone call we'll need a phone card. (Amazing how a phone card seems like such an outdated thing!)
I definitely need this trip. And, maybe it is the best way to deal with this maddening situation: now that I've done all that I can, I just need to let it unfold the way it's meant to. It's so hard for me to feel like I'm giving up control on this or anything else.