Ugly Chicken

Ptari is looking a little ugly. 

I'm trying not to make her self-conscious, but she looks like a mangy chicken. A molting chicken is an ugly chicken who doesn't lay eggs. I'm happy she isn't dying, but she is U-G-L-Y.

I was talking to her today as I was cleaning out their nasty, stinking coop about how it didn't matter to me that she wasn't pretty or productive, I still loved her, it was just a little harder.

It wasn't that I loved her any less. I don't believe in loving more versus less, falling in or out of love. 

Love is. 

Love is steadfast faithfulness. There's no more or less, but there are definitely times it's easier and harder.



I feel a little shallow saying it's harder for me to love when my beloved isn't pretty or productive. I wish it was just about chickens, but my guess is it's true in all my relationships. 

It's harder for me to love something that's ugly and requires work without any return. 

There. I said it out loud. 

I think it's important to say that confession so we recognize love takes practice; it doesn't come naturally. Our instinct is to cherish the butterfly and stomp the spider, but how do we become people who love and cherish the beautiful and hideous? How do we love when it is hard and when it is easy?

And to know when it is time to end a relationship. There are times that the ugliness of life can so corrupt a relationship that it's destructive to remain and the least broken, most loving thing to do is sell the chicken to the butcher. 

I'm just joking. Mostly. I'm a sick and twisted person. I still love her lots so don't fret. I'm actually working on her Halloween costume. I think she'll love it. 

Dead Fish

"Do you think I'll die if I licked a dead salmon?" 

How do you answer that as a parent?

"Yes, I think you will die regardless of what you licked because we all die.  Are you asking about imminent death from some salmon parasite disease? I'm not sure."

Why I'm allowed to parent, I don't know, but we googled "licking dead salmon." That's an interesting search and there are parasite issues that are uncomfortable for humans and deadly for dogs. I then forbid her from licking or kissing the dog. I have boundaries.

After we learned more about parasites than I ever wanted to know, I finally broached the subject of why she was licking a dead salmon. 

"Even if you thought he would turn into a prince, he'd still be dead." 

I should have known. It was a dare. With money attached. Now it all makes sense and I'm slightly proud.

I once ate the remains from an all you can eat Chinese buffet in Elijah's bib pocket for $10. It was a dare from the youth group. Or maybe I said, "how much will you pay me to eat this?" It looked more disgusting than it was, but it still was kind of gross. 

Well worth $10 from a bunch of teenagers. 

Yes, I made them pay.

There's something motivating about dares with money attached. I've been wrestling with how the community of faith can be a more courageous community and I feel like dares backed with money might push us all out of our comfort zone. Imagine if we played truth or dare on Sunday mornings at church pushing and cajoling each other into a greater honesty and risk. 

It has its hazards. Risking and revealing ourselves just for the titillation of it is dangerous and addictive. But, there is something vitalizing when we are uncomfortable and slightly grossed out. 

If you can lick a dead salmon, then maybe it's also possible to risk intervening when something is wrong,
       speaking and standing up for those who are silenced, 
               and even acknowledging hurt and offering forgiveness.

If you can push yourself out of your comfort zone for one thing, then maybe that's all the practice you need for the stuff that really matters.

Or maybe it's just gross and funny. Either way you win.

Meat Bubble Wand

I decided to write again for two reasons:

1. Kirt goes off night shift and I can no longer stay up until 2 AM reading mysteries so I need to get a life. I also need a break after I was up half the night fretting about one of the characters. Do normal people invest this much emotional energy in books or is that reserved only for Dancing with the Stars?

2. I had a dream last night that made me wake up laughing. There I was up in a tree where I really wanted to blow some bubbles with the bubble mix I had handy, but I didn't have a bubble wand. Don't worry. I took the meat I was chewing and wove it together to make a bubble wand. Then, I started to brag to people in the dream about my amazing meat bubble wand. 

Last Human on Earth from Dr. Who.
Her face got smeared, which only
makes it creepier and more absurd

It still makes me laugh. If you were in my dream and saw the chewed up steak woven in a circle bubble wand, you would giggle too. My ideas are brilliant even in my dreams.

I remember after 9/11 David Letterman asked when it was okay to be funny again. It was a good question.

There is so much sadness and fear right now. There are obviously times when humor is inappropriate and disrespectful, but I would argue that we don't laugh nearly enough. If you are open to laughing then you also tend to be open to grieving. They come from the same place in your body and defy the urge to shutdown emotionally in the face of fear and sadness.

Laughter doesn't make me escape reality, but it helps me name the absurdity of life without being overwhelmed by it. 

Just say out loud "meat bubble wand" and you'll get a taste of what I mean.