Egg Blossoms

I may have to get me one of these:

Minimalism: a Road Block

The annual Used Book Sale is coming up this week at school, the perfect opportunity for me to pare down my book collection to the essentials. I'll be reducing the objects in our home, and helping the school at the same time. It's a win-win.

Except that I don't want to pare down, reduce, or any other form of minimalising. Not when it comes to my books.

Maybe I'll never read them again, but they all represent phases of my life -- different levels of growth, maturity and interest. I have books on animals, environmentalism, writing, physical training, pregnancy and child-rearing, dog-raising, university textbooks, home plans and how to run a business. I have novels that were special to me when I was a child, and novels I haven't yet read. I have classics and I have New York Times bestsellers.

Books aren't just possessions; they are an extension of the person who read them. The words enter the body through the eyes, and form a part of the essence of the person, informing their thoughts and their actions. The books live and breathe through the reader, and the reader is changed for having read them.

When I am dead and returned to ashes, I would like my family and friends to be able to browse through my bookshelves and be reminded of me: my likes and interests, maybe my quirks.

In the end, I set aside a small pile of books that were neither compelling nor commemorative -- some run-of-the-mill paperbacks and nondescript novels that had been left at our house at one time or another by friends and family.

The rest will remain on my shelves, probably gathering dust. But just looking at their spines brings me happiness. And in the end, they will leave a record of a life well-read.

Maybe I'll find a better path to minimalism in the linen closet.

Success! And Breakfast : )

This afternoon, I put Indira down for a nap and sat down for a quiet lunch, when the commotion from the back yard sent me outside.

China was absolutely beside herself, pacing in the yard and squawking to wake the dead. When I picked her up, she calmed down and let me pet her, but as soon as I put her down again, she took up the same routine. She couldn't settle down. She jumped on the ledge, and off again. She walked the length of the yard. She sat down, then got right back up again. Squawking all the while. This carried on for at least half an hour.

I was afraid the neighbors were going to call the cops; I had to get the noise level down. I resorted to locking the girls in the coop, but with the ventilation holes and the open first floor, there was no sound reduction. In fact, China crowed even louder. That girl wanted out.

I even considered locking her in the garage, but that didn't seem right for my free-range chickens. I posted a question on the Backyardchickens.com forum, and the response back seemed to be "Leghorns are just loud. Nothing you can do about it." I threatened to put China in the pot, but she just looked at me and squawked. So I went back in the house.

And I worried that Animal Control would be knocking on our door any minute. How could the neighbors not complain about the noise? Was she ever going to stop? You know the end of this story, but I didn't.

Suddenly, it was blissfully quiet. I looked out the window and saw Snow Angel pecking in the play area, but no China. For two girls who are always within 18 inches of each other, this was astonishing. So I went outside and scanned the yard -- no China.

I found her in the coop, surrounded by an array of torn-up newspaper. It looked like she'd lost her mind and torn up everything in sight. She was backed up almost to the back wall of the coop, and she looked like she'd just been through war. In front of her was a perfect white egg.

I picked the egg up, and it was warm and weighty in my hand. I held it to my cheek and felt the heat of it. And I looked at China with amazement. I know she's not the first chicken to lay an egg, but the way a new mother feels like she is the only one who has ever given birth, I felt that way about this egg. We've nurtured China since she was only three days old, and it was the culmination of all the love and clean-up and building projects to see that 1.6 oz oval sitting there on the floor.

After a short while, China went back to her usual pastime of calmly digging for bugs in the garden, none the worse for wear.

And the egg sits in the fridge, waiting for more to join it so we can make breakfast :)