My Life of Deprivation

09.19.11


I still don’t have chickens. Mr. G is trying with all his might to keep me deprived of fresh organic eggs and the magical chicken shit that will make my canna grow. Recently the kids and I listened to an interview on NPR with a fellow who raised fancy chickens with blue skin. Mr. G is also firmly committed to making our children miserable and deprived. People have fancy chickens. We have none.

We looked at two houses on Saturday. First there was the one I could have lived in for ten more years, and next there was the one I could have lived in for all my days. I stood in that house and knew that it was mine. I imagined my children growing up there and then moving out. I fantasized about growing old in a house that was large enough for company but had few enough rooms that it wouldn’t feel lonely.

Alexander was with a friend on Saturday so Jane, Mr. G, Doug and I met at the house, my house, to take a look. Mr. G had no idea where he was in the city but he liked the street. He liked the house. He did not like the neighborhood. He thought about it. He drove around the neighborhood. Twice.

And then Mr. G crushed my dream again. He won’t take his life’s savings and invest it in a house that he didn’t want to live in. Clearly he is a husband hell bent on depriving me of what I need.

 

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7 responses to “My Life of Deprivation”

  1. Cassieboorn says:

    Maybe you can leverage you not getting the house to get the chickens? I want chickens so badly!

  2. Beth Morgan says:

    Is this a bad time to say that my sister has chickens (in Seattle) and that she and her kids love them?  They aren’t particularly fancy, but they do each lay one nice, small egg a day, and each of the egg shells is different depending on which chicken laid it.  One of them lays very pretty blue eggs– that’s fancy!

    House hunting in California is definitely a long, painful road.  There is crap you would tolerate for 300K that you just can’t for 1000K.

  3. Beth Morgan says:

    Is this a bad time to say that my sister has chickens (in Seattle) and that she and her kids love them?  They aren’t particularly fancy, but they do each lay one nice, small egg a day, and each of the egg shells is different depending on which chicken laid it.  One of them lays very pretty blue eggs– that’s fancy!

    House hunting in California is definitely a long, painful road.  There is crap you would tolerate for 300K that you just can’t for 1000K.

  4. Explain to Mr. G that if he gets you those chickens, you will have a ready made food supply when the apocalypse of 2012 hits. LOL Maybe that will change his mind. It is, after all, being parctical.

    And frugal.

    And all MacGuyver-survivor-ish. Don’t all men wish they could be like MacGuyver? :P

  5. The Insane Writer says:

    My father-in-law has chickens. He shares his eggs. We are blessed. My husband wants to raise chickens in the backyard. I don’t. I would end up having to care for the chickens 24/7. I have enough chicken poo on my plate.

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