Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Buried another hen on Sunday.
The Burial was not quite as Respectful as the last one owing to Certain Distractions.
As the day turned to dusk, and Husband and I were clearing detritus of gardening from Said Garden, Husband turned to me and said,
'Shall we bury the chicken?'
As you do.
'What chicken?' I asked, looking over to the chicken run, where our four remaining Girls were having their last moments of pecking about before bed. There didn't appear to be a dead one.
Husband reminded me that Dead Chicken was in garage.
'Christ,' I said, remembering. 'She's been dead for about two months.' There had been No Time to bury her when she died, owing to Too Much To Do Syndrome. So I had shoved her into a box and put her in garage. As you do.
'Precisely,' said Husband, in that precise way of his. 'So maybe we should bury her today.'
And so we did.
While Husband was digging a hole near where the potatoes will be sowed next weekend, I busied myself fetching the cardboard box, inside which was Peggy, who had Pegged it at least eight weeks ago.
Rather gingerly, I opened the box, to see that the old girl was looking largely the same, only a tad smellier. And dead, of course.
Spent the next five minutes knocking up a passable cross for the grave (all our pets require such attention) and lugged box and cross over to Husband, where the hole was ready.
Unfortunately, Husband had started an extremely Smoky Fire next to potential Grave.
Thick, yellow smoke swirled about, right where the hole was.
Coughing and spluttering, we hurled poor old Peggy into the hole and staggered back out of the range of smoke.
'Should we get the children?' I asked Husband.
'Naaaaah,' he said, 'Let's just get on with it and then we can have tea.'
'Okeydoke,' said I.
'Shall I say some prayers?' asked Husband.
'Go on, then,' I said, and we held hands and Husband spoke these words.
'Thank you, God, for Peggy, who has probably been in heaven for quite some time now, owing to the fact that my wife has left her to rot in the garage for several weeks.'
We exchanged a Married Look.
He continued.
'Thank you for all her eggs.....' At this point the smoke became so thick and pungent that we couldn't actually see each other, and therefore had to move back some distance, to get into some fresh air.
After some coughing Husband continued once again.
At this point the wind had whipped up a treat and was enveloping us in Hollywood Type Billowing smoke.
Barely able to make out each other's nostril hair, let alone the grave, had to abandon Funeral Arrangements and go inside to make a cup of tea.
And so we did, after hurling earth on top of dear old Peggy, shoving the cross in over the grave, and taking a last look at our newly sown veggie patch. And, for very clear practical reasons, moving the Dish washer from the middle of the lawn, where it had been put after a clear out of one of the sheds. Which made us swear in quite a Rude Sort of Way.
And as I made our cups of tea, I took a look out across the garden to where our Peggy was buried.
And hoped that she didn't mind the Shambles that was her funeral.
R.I.P. old girl.
And thanks for all those eggs.

We have no picture of Peggy, so here's a picture of Another Brown Hen, sort of like Peggy, with Dilly, one of our Silkies, and Milly, the rabbit. Who, incidently, thinks herself to be a chicken. Welcome to my world.


Corey Schwartz said...

Oh, R.I.P Peggy!

Anonymous said...

Husband turned to me and said,
'Shall we bury the chicken?'

I thought the you were going to say "shall we bury the hatchet", but since this is a chicken funeral that would not be very fitting.


Troy said...

I think all dead chicken boxes ought to have a "best buried before" date clearly shown on them to prevent prolonged delays such as this one.

I think I shall take it up with all the election candidates when they call by my house - I'll ask them "Can you elucidate your party's policy regarding 'Best Buried Before' dating on dead chicken boxes?" I'll vote for the one that gives the wittiest answer providing he's wearing a blue rosette.

Strawberry Jam Anne said...

You had me snorting with laughter again LWM. Good old Peggy - gone but will never be forgotten by any of us now. A x

Pam said...

Eight weeks and she was just a tad smaller and smellier! I was expecting all kinds of carnage. Anyway, glad she got a burial in the end. RIP Peggy.

Boyfromoz said...

Reminds me of what I found, fossilised, at the back of one of my father's desk drawers many years after my sister, Rural Villager, no less, left it there having been caught somewhat short one day!
Also, as & when the rabbit goes to that great warren in the sky, make sure it doesn't expire at full stretch, as did two of ours quite some years ago - it results in the neccessity to break some legs to enable a snug fit in the shoe box coffin!

Anonymous said...

I'm sure Peggy has a sense of humour and was duly chuckling from her heavenly perch!

Ladybird World Mother said...

CS - indeed!! x
SD - hatchets and chickens... ouch!
Troy - Brilliant. Expecting all candidates to tip up at front door in the next few weeks... will let you know how amusing answers are... not holding my breath. x
Anne - glad you got a giggle! Poor old Peggy, will be remembered for all the wrong things. x
Pam - amazing that the poor old girl wasnt more 'wasted' as it were. But she looked just the same... apart from round the eyes... not a good look. x
Boyfromoz -eeeewwwwwwww!!! Lets spread that one around, as it were. :)
Mud - Peggy definitely had a sense of humour... but unfortunately could only cluck and not chuckle. Poor old thing. Imagine not being able to laugh. xx

Troy said...

You are very lucky to have got away with all this smoke. The authorities are apparently blaming it on an Icelandic volcano. How naive!

Tattie Weasle said...

Ah the burial of chickens, always a sad and noteworthy moment...once you're passed number 20 you tend to opt for ferret food or aerial burial option and can even do both while having cup of tea outside - though not of course near the bonfire...

Lou said...

Laughed like a drain then went out and counted my chickens...

Sally Whittle said...

Classic - love the "married look"

I just wanted to let you know that your blog has been nominated for a MAD award - Funniest MAD Blog - well done!

You can find out more about the awards, prizes and voting process at www.the-mads.com


The MADs

Ladybird World Mother said...

Troy - !!!! laughed and laughed. Because you may be right. How about that, eh, to stop an entire country's flights over one bonfire and a dead chicken. Am right proud of myself.
Tattie - 'aerial burial option'!!
Love it. And am sadly guilty of such travesties of death and chickens. x
Lou - hope they are all there. Or I can assist in a funeral if you like. Will not giggle at all. x
Sally - how exciting!! Am thrilled to bits and will go and have a look right away. Thanks hugely!! x

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Ladybird World Mother said...

Um.. to the blogger who so kindly left a comment. My chinese isnt so good, but the 'Taiwansex' bit in the middle is a bit of a giveaway. So thanks, but no thanks, as WestSussexsex is just as good, I find.

Clippy Mat said...

Peggy. :-(
Did ever a chicken have such an auspicious (and smoky) burial? With prayers no less.
I thought you might have cremated her at one point.
Milly. :-)
the chicken rabbit.
oh my lord!
I hope you get the MAD award. You deserve it. I love coming over here.

Troy said...


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Find out which is best or if both are equal as good, at http://ladybirdworld.blogspot.com/

or save yourself a tenor, and try both!

[non UK readers will be baffled by this]

Ladybird World Mother said...

Save yourself a tenor!!! Chuckle. According to friends, Middlesex is best. Not sure really.