Happy Christmas Eve- Eve-Eve!

Myrtle has asked that we not post pictures of Bombarella for a while.  She's molting, which means she looks like a hedgehog with wings at the moment.

Instead, she has asked that we post her Christmas wish list.  Since she has only been a moderately naughty chicken, we will oblige, particularly since you may wish to purchase the following items for a worthy chicken near you (Note:  management of Myrtle's does NOT need any such gifts; we post this list merely as a service to others):

From the author of "The Poisonwood Bible".  This tome is no less inspiring, but unlike TPB, "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" doesn't give Myrtle the creeps.

It actually reads a little like Fannie Flagg's "Whistle-Stop Cafe", only it's less plot-oriented and more New York Times-y.  Of course, Myrtle and the girls think the Times is a terrible paper.  "I can't taste anything for a half-an-hour after I eat the Times." 

So take her opinion with a grain of salt.



We suggest getting a used copy.  Or better still, find a library that is about to be torn down and replaced by a McDonald's, and buy their copy at firesale prices.

Thoreau himself, of course, actually borrowed a lot of money from Emerson to keep going.  And Emerson was a famous preacher whose most famous sermon was essentially his two-weeks notice that he was quitting the profession.  So you may want to save this book for retirement.  Either that, or give it as a gift to your over-ambitious neighbors.  That'll teach 'em!




Alfred North Whitehead's best student, and best editor.  A review of 4,500 years of theology.  Unfortunately, it's not accessible for chickens -- this book always puts Myrtle to sleep by the end of the explanation of the definition of "panentheism".

Don't ask.  We might answer you.  Anyway, this is a brilliant review of the literature; we're not sure which is more insightful, the pieces written by the philosophers, or the brief introductory paragraphs explaining what some of these philosophers' theologies were. 

Myrtle, of course, is an eggsistentialist. 



Myrtle will never actually have children, but if she did, she would want to name her first cockrell "Caleb Garth".  And if only more preachers were like Rev. Fairbrother, it would be a better world.

We should warn you, though.   You can plant an orchard and watch it grow to first harvest in the time it takes to read the first 30 pages of this book.  It eventually picks up, but that is some of the driest introductory material in the English language.  Thank goodness we had to read it, though, because the rest of the book is the single greatest character study in the English language.  And that includes the "Myrtle is a big Woozle" sign Smokey Lonesome hung on Myrtle last week.


Merry Christmas, everyone!

And Happy Farming!