Choose Your Brood

Have you ever experienced the phenomenon of thinking about something and then seeing it? My husband, for example, will tell me about a car he wants and suddenly we see that car everywhere. Well, I tend to get an idea into my head, and whether I like it or not I start seeing links to what I would consider normal (even mundane) occurrences. If you’ve been following along then you know my wonderings have shifted to the topic of connection. I’ve written about how I want better and more meaningful connections with people. I want to give and receive support, comfort, friendship, love, and laughter without the negativity and drama that is so pervasive in today’s society. I seek them and I even foster them but I never force connections. If someone is meant to be in my life then I do not doubt that they will be. After all, every one of us has a life to live and I am confident that roads will be crossed and bridges mended when the time is right.

So this brings me to this current wondering that I have been ruminating on for some time now. It all started with my hens – those eight feisty gals that keep me and several others in a steady supply of eggs. One cold and windy evening I was out doing my chores when I stopped at the coop to do a headcount and lock up for the night. The girls were all roosting for the night and I noticed that six of them were all together in and around one nesting box. The other two were nestled together on a neighboring one. I was so taken by the sweetness of the scene. The little old biddy bantam hen was sandwiched between two larger and younger hens. I like to think that this arrangement wasn’t merely a coincidence. Maybe the two of them decided to keep the biddy warm and safe against the chill of the night. Maybe I am merely anthropomorphizing. Either way seeing my brood of diverse hens gathered in solidarity left me feeling happy and grateful.

I can’t help but see my rooster-less flock as a representation of the women in my life. The brood is a mashup of different breeds. First, we have the old biddy bantam hen who is the lone survivor of the fox attacks of 2017. She adjusted to life without her flock and settled in with the goats while awaiting new coop mates. The seven younger hens are of various breeds including Wyandotte, Araucana, Rhode Island Reds, and Whites. Old biddy and I watched them grow from newly hatched chicks to pullets to beautiful layers in a matter of months. It was fascinating to see them all turn from helpless babes under a heat lamp to silly tweens exploring the coop and then to beautiful full-bodied hens. The beauty of a mixed breed flock is that each hen regardless of age and genetics brings her uniqueness to the group and the resulting diversity makes for a healthier brood. Some lay blue eggs. Some lay brown eggs. Others lay blush-colored eggs. One hen lays eggs with multiple yolks. Little biddy lays tiny eggs but it’s been a while since I’ve collected one. Maybe she is now spent and will live out her years without producing another. But beyond their egg-laying abilities, these hens have so much to offer the landscape of my tiny hobby farm.

If you have ever tended to free-range hens then you know how easy it is to adore them. They are very social creatures and each hen takes on a different role within the brood. I’ve learned that it is not unusual for one to even stop laying and take on the role of the rooster. The girls have an established pecking order because just like us, they too, have unique personalities. Some are gregarious while others are shy and watchful, others are aggressive and fearless, while others are cautious. I love observing them throughout the day from the time they burst out of the coop when the sun comes up until the evening headcount and egg collection. I know one who doesn’t want to be away from her BFF and one who will happily stay in the nesting box all day. I’ve noticed that old biddy is very comfortable being away from the group and will even occasionally choose to bunk with the old barn cat at night. Two of the hens like to go exploring together and can often be found in the far corner of the horse pasture. But despite their different meanderings and habits, all the girls eventually find themselves together because they know that life is better when you don’t go it alone.

What is a group of spirited assorted gals if not noisy? The daylight hours are filled with their vocalizations as they move about the yard and to and from their coop. They communicate in dozens of ways from the soft cooing of relaxation while resting in the sun to the harsh squawking of a distress call. But perhaps my favorite is the bock, bock, BA-BOCK of the egg song as a hen proclaims to the world that an egg has just been laid. Many people have speculated on the reason the hens perform the egg song. Some think it is their way to show pride for laying an egg. Others think it is to signal to the other hens that the nest will be free for them to sit. And one opinion is that the racket confuses predators. I sometimes wonder if it’s anything like labor - passing a three-yolk egg might be a bit uncomfortable like birthing a big baby. However, only the hens know exactly why they do what they do.

Observing the brood makes me think fondly of all the women, from the young chicks to the old biddies, who make up my more diverse and less centralized group of friends. I use the term friends in the broadest of ways. It encompasses all the women from immediate family to long-distance social media friends. These “friends” or “sisters” include my young adult nieces, the oldest of friends, the newest of friends, beloved aunties, beautiful cousins, wise elderly neighbors, and even the kind employee at Tractor Supply. You see, ever since I started my need and want for better connections, it’s as though the “forces that be” are sending connections my way along with daily reminders (from the chickens). Just since posting Now What? back in January I connected with some very dear friends and have been able to give as well as receive love, support, and kindness. Maybe it is the mere act of being vulnerable, the fact that my words resonate with some, or some crazy “woo woo” law of attraction mumbo jumbo but I’m just happy with the results.

Seriously, I can’t begin to tell you how amazing the first sixty days of the new year have been because of all the women in my life. Every opportunity to converse, comfort, laugh, and advise has left me feeling better than before - whether it was an afternoon catching up with an old friend while commiserating about family drama or having tea with my daughter’s former bus driver turned good friend and sharing in belly laughs. And then some of the sweetest interactions didn’t even happen face to face. On a day when I was feeling particularly vulnerable and blue, a package arrived for me. It contained a beautiful hand-knitted sweater from my former college roommate. She sent it to me because she had a strong feeling that the sweater belonged to me. I was brought to tears by this gesture and I now happily wear what I have deemed my most valuable article of clothing daily. Or a simple message from my cousin who, after reading my last post Barbs and Scars, reached out to inquire if everything was alright and to offer her support. I hope she realizes how much I appreciate our bond across the miles and years. And then when I sent out a request to friends and family on Facebook to help make my daughter’s leap year birthday even more memorable I couldn’t believe the response. People who were part of her life weren’t the only ones who responded. She received cards and gifts from distant family as well as my friends from high school and college who had never even met her. It was truly a most magical week for her as her excitement over her second real birthday grew with the arrival of the mail. I couldn’t have done it without all the thoughtful and loving women in my life.

I can go on and on about the women in my life (whether I see or speak to them daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, or haven’t at all for decades) and how they make it better. It is the horse talk with my bestie when she’s picking up some eggs and surprising me with a bag of chicken feed. It’s the morning chats with my sister as we laugh about the insanity that surrounds us. Or the daily check-in texts with the women who share the same concern over one of my nieces. It’s the messages from friends who just want to remind me that they love me. And it’s the friendships that have formed with my aunties and my nieces now that we are all adults. I am truly blessed to be part of such a brood - to be valued enough to know that my opinions and feelings matter and that my advice is appreciated. But most of all it is knowing that I am loved for just being me and realizing that I am never out of mind even if I may always be out of sight.

I’ve heard it said that we are the sum of the people with whom we spend the most time. That being noted I am somewhat particular about the women in my life. I no longer have time for anyone who drains my energy or makes me feel uncomfortable about being me. There is a quote by the author SARK that beautifully sums up what it means to be part of a sisterhood (I like to use the term brood) - The circles of women around us weave invisible nets of love that carry us when we are weak and sing with us when we are strong. Is that not lovely? Is that not what all of us should strive to have in life? And why shouldn’t we have what the hens have? We should feel free to sing our egg song of accomplishment and squawk when feeling threatened. We should be comfortable sitting and sighing while enjoying the sun and we should excitedly meander and explore life together. I know this seems a bit idealized. And it is! However, unlike the hens, we get to choose our brood – the women who get us. Mine may not be suitable for you and vice versa but we should all experience the love, support, and laughter that come from being part of one. It is my sincerest hope that this post will warm the hearts of the women I adore and encourage others to foster these most valuable relationships.