It was hard to get chickens this year, meat chickens I mean. Lots of places sold out, and we were slow at the gun. So now we’ve got to hatch our fertilized eggs into our own chickens. To get the same number of chickens we want in the freezer, we’re going to have to extend out our slaughter to be essentially a year round thing. Instead of one big thing going for the better part of the summer, we’ll be hatching chicks out, growing them, and harvesting them in cycles of about a month. A month of hatching, two months of growing before processing. It’ll be a nice little process we can get into the groove of, and we’ll end up with loads of fresh chickens. Probably enough to sell a few, that’td be nice. Reminds me of that one comedy sketch. 

Anyways, grooves are what I’m looking for at the moment, habits and things to cling to. Liturgy on Sunday, prostrations before bed, fish curry on Mondays, that sort of thing. I really cling to stability, to a way of being I can feel confident in. Rarer and rarer all the time in this world. So it goes. Maybe this place at the top of the hill can be steady for us, that’d be good. 

I read that it’s actually prideful to worry. There’s the verse about how much God loves the birds, and that ought to be evidence enough. But this fellow was talking about how worrying and being grumpy about the way things are going is prideful. It implies you think you know better about how your life ought to go than God does. He who can see the whole of it, while you’re just a camera obscura somewhere along the line. Stupid you thinking you know the right angle from your little frame. 

I’m too stupid to worry.