Music Most Fowl

https://buymeacoffee.com/lynnfergy

When times are a little bumpy - and I think it's fair to say the world is ridiculously bumpy right now - my go-to is to ‘try to be the best version of myself.’ It’s only because when there are so many pretty awful things I am powerless to change, I get a tiny bit of security from taking care of what I can control - as in whether to behave like a douchebag or not.

Having said that, if you too, are ‘trying to be the best version of yourself’, then my advice would be don’t, under any circumstances, venture to say anything helpful about how to keep chickens on social media, because you'll only come a cropper.

For example, some days ago, a guy not really called Barry - but for the purposes of this Note, he is - wrote on a chicken site that he was looking for someone to take a rooster and hen he'd rescued. He was really sad about having to give them away, but the rooster was so loud the neighbors were upset, and he didn't want to get a citation from the city.

And even though I knew I shouldn't, in a moment of frickin’ weakness I wrote:

Have you tried putting a collar on the rooster? Check it out on YouTube. It takes the volume way down, and it doesn't hurt them. Our guy, Genghis, wears one, and he's fine with it.

And Barry wrote back to me:

Lynn Ferguson I have, he’s actually wearing one in the most recent picture posted. It quieted him down a bit but not enough for our neighborhood with the neighbors sitting in their back yards 10 feet away 😞

I sympathized.

Barry I am so sorry. It sucks. They become like members of the family. I hope you find someone you like who can take them.

And we both placed smiley and sad face emojis, which were really just there to illustrate that sometimes it's really really tough loving creatures, and trying to do the best by them.

But then, like a guerrilla sniper shooting off unwarranted opinions, some woman called Sheila appeared.

She said.

Lynn Ferguson those are cruel and only quiet the crow. Often times it limits them eating and drinking properly. It's just cruel!!

So I said:

Sheila, my rooster and flock are thriving, but yeah thanks for your completely unrequested opinion.

And Sheila, evidently keen to get the last word, wrote

Lynn Ferguson your welcome 😁

And I know I should have probably left it, but frankly she'd annoyed me, and I felt it could be a learning moment, so I replied

Sheila *you're*

Then Sheila illustrating the point that empty vessels do indeed make the most noise, doubled down with.

Lynn Ferguson nope *your*

So I said…

Sheila I rest my case.

She must have gone off to check the spelling on Google something, or maybe she was just really busy interfering in somebody else's conversation, because it was a couple of hours before she came back with the comment:

Lynn Ferguson, then you understand that not everyone cares about correcting whatever words are incorrect. Glad we got that straightened out. But thanks for being my autocorrect.

I haven't replied. There's no point. As someone, maybe even Confucius -because he apparently said everything about everything- once said:

Never wrestle with a pig, because you both get dirty and the pig enjoys it.

And I am, after all, trying to be the best version of myself. And really there’s no point calling Sheila an idiot when she’s so clearly adept at announcing it herself.

Anyway, I'm telling you this because this Note is about chickens. And musical instruments. And compromise. And trying to do the right thing. So I'm preparing you that this Note contains details that may be offensive to those who are easily offended. So if that’s you, here’s your chance to look away.

We have this old piano. It's a beautiful piece, but it has definitely seen better days. We got it for free from some guy on Craigslist, who had no doubt got it free from someone else.

It was quite a palaver getting it into the house because. I don't know if you know this, but in terms of weight, pianos are right up there in the realms of ‘really fucking heavy’. But, completely randomly through a friend of a friend, the guys who actually brought it to us had just moved furniture for David Beckham. I'm pretty certain our moth-eaten freebie from the Craigslist was a couple of thousand steps down from the standard of furniture they were accustomed to moving, but they were much too polite to say.

I'd wanted a piano because I grew up in a house where there was a piano, and though none of us played it well, or indeed very much at all, it represented something that was about freedom and possibility that I can't quite put my finger on. Anyway, I wanted that for my kids, so piano it was.

As it turned out, my kids were about as interested in the piano as they were in a balanced diet, or anything with gravy, and by that I mean, completely not at all.

So, for the longest time, the piano has remained pretty much unplayed.

And I don't know if you know this, but aside from being really really fucking heavy, pianos also take up a lot of room, so one day we figured it was time for the piano to fly the coop and find a new home.

So I put it on Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace. “Free piano!” the listing announced.

Nothing. Nada. No response.

I tried again with “Free antique piano” as that's what people say on Craigslist when they really mean, ‘a bit worn but you can tell your friends it’s fancy’.

Some guy was in touch about it, then backed off when he realized he wouldn't just be able to fit it in the back of his van. And then, nothing. Not even a wee chirp on Facebook, which is what I happened to be checking when I got distracted by the poor guy who was trying to re-home his rooster.

“Some woman on Facebook said putting a collar on a rooster is cruel,” I said to Mark.

“Oh yeah,” he said, “Genghis looks like he's really struggling.”

I looked out to the backyard. Genghis having just ‘serviced’ one of his ladies, strutted off, tail high, to let out an impressive - albeit muted- cock a doodle do.

I laughed.

“Here’s a thought,” Mark said, “If you’re looking for the answers to any of the great questions in the Universe, you’re probably not going to find them on Facebook.”

I nodded. And then watching Genghis trot around the backyard with Vera, Shelley, and Veronica in tow, I said, “Do chickens like music, to you think?”

Mark shrugged. “They listen to Classic FM in the nesting box, and that seems to take the edge off egg laying,” he said.

“But what about piano music?” I asked. “What do you reckon chickens might feel about the piano?”

And he looked at me and smiled. And the answer was clear.

And so this week, we hired a couple of local guys to move the piano from our living room into the backyard where the chickens range.

The moving guys were brilliant. Two muscle-bound blokes in vests, they observed the piano with a professional cool. Then, when they saw where we wanted the piano to go, they actually giggled.

With a lot of heaving and sweating and powerlifting, they moved the piano into the chicken area, and once it was in place, one of the guys played a little tune on the keyboard, while Genghis and his girls regarded him with interest.

Thrilled to be rewarded with eggs, and money obviously, the moving guys headed off, telling us that they looked forward to our chickens one day being on America's Got Talent.

So, yeah, the entire world may indeed be going to ratshit but our free antique piano is in the backyard with the chickens, and I am happy to say that it has already been ‘played’ more often in this past week than it has been in the past 5 years.

Genghis hasn't seemed particularly fussed with it one way or the other, but Daphne does enjoy a tinkle - though she seems to prefer tunes on the lower keys.

Would piano aficionados approve? Definitely not. Would Sheila of the chicken police be impressed? Frankly, who cares? Will my chickens ever be on America's Got Talent? I very much doubt it. Is it even ethical to give an old piano to your chickens? You know, I’m not even sure I know what the word ethical means anymore, though I do suspect that it’s easier for a chicken to play piano than maybe a trumpet or a flute.

What I absolutely can tell you is that when I'm pottering around in the backyard and I hear the piano begin to play, and I turn round to see a fully grown chicken mightily impressed with themselves, then I do feel that somehow and in some way, everything is going to work out alright.

xo

PS: Every time you click on the wee heart emoji on this post to like it, a chicken plays a note on the piano. That’s a complete and total lie - chickens can’t be controlled that way - but if you click ‘like’ on this post, it doesn’t half perk up my algorithm.

P. P. S: If you enjoy talking/listening/stories/ random facts, come and join me and Mr Tweddle this Thursday at Fish and Bear. This Thursday we will be back a MacLeod’s in the Magical No-Kings-dom of Van Nuys. xo

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And because I am totally showing off - look, I have a book for sale. Written when I had two fully functioning arms - though no better grasp of punctuation.

Volume 2 is available now: US, UK, Can, Aus

Audiobook link https://amzn.to/3Dh0MVP

If you do buy a copy, please leave a review on the site as it helps people know that I write in proper sentences… erm sometimes xo

Music Most Fowl - Audio