At the end of a week of high winds and divine intervention (see below for
details) and on December the sixth, my thoughts naturally to Kamikaze, about
which there was a piece in the New York Times today. Also to the end of the
world sketch from “Beyond the Fringe,” which begins, “Will this wind be so
mighty as to lay low the Heavens and the Earth?”
A convoluted opening, I know, dedicated to the only other person in the world
who thinks as I do. Happy birthday J the J. This one’s for you.
There may be some part of the world that welcomes winds from the East. I have
not lived in it. Everywhere I’ve lived wind from the east is associated with
cold. Here it’s a particularly cold and often stormy wind. Historians of the
chickens’ world will recall that one winter I pinned an old carpet up to
mitigate its effect. Last week’s winds weren’t that cold, but they were
sufficiently mighty to down trees and litter the neighborhood with Douglas
detritus. To avoid having the same old conversation with the chickens about
why I wasn’t doing more to prevent noisy nights, I looked up the history of
Kamikaze, “Divine Wind,” hoping that it might have been from the East. Nope.
As you see in the map in the link here, that wind, at least in the instance
described, was probably from the South.
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/11/141104-kamikaze-kublai-khan-winds-typhoon-japan-invasion/
<https://www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/11/141104-kamikaze-kublai-khan-winds-typhoon-japan-invasion/>
I forgot all this in a flurry of morning activity. First thing now goes like
this. Pecorino runs out the door with Appenzeller but hangs back, hoping I’ll
put some chicken kibble near her. Which I do. Appenzeller reaches the main
distribution but doubles back before eating anything, so she can claim
Pecorino’s portion. Pecorino backs off until Appenzeller runs back to the cage
to see if I’ve left any for Mimo. I have. Appenzeller tries to claim that
too. Meanwhile, Pecorino has reached the main distribution and tucks in.
Appenzeller runs to stop that, whereupon Mimo resumes eating. The only one not
eating is the bully, Appenzeller. Wasn’t there a T.V. show about a boss in an
office who thinks he’s in charge of everything, but isn’t?
I went to feed the dog and the cats and prepare my breakfast. With melon seeds
in hand and a special treat, I stepped out again. By this time everyone’s
reunited; the flock is once more a solid voting block, but Appenzeller is still
first to the booty. I drop seeds in three locations and then crumble a fortune
cookie. This gets everyone’s attention and for a moment they’re torn by
indecision: which is better, seeds or cookie?I diverted them by reading their
fortune, “You will learn the value of a hug this week.”
Mimo was not impressed, “A bit god-centric that.”
Appenzeller, “Armist, I’d call it. Biased in favor of those who have arms.”
Pecorino nodded, “Certainly biased in favor of the hug-abled.”
Sometimes chickens are quite hard to please. Me too.
I spent some part of my week trying to get a new phone to access the web. Like
a cat staring indoor at weather out there that doesn’t meet requiurements, my
phone goes, “Cannot activate web access.” The people in the AT and T store
blame Apple and want me to return the phone. The web says mine a common
problem with AT and T service and here are the simple fixes, many of which I
have now tried. I liked my old phone. Why am I in possession of a new phone
that takes calls but has gone all grumpy cat on me? Because AT and T said they
would no longer support my old phone in January. So now I have a new phone
WHICH THEY AREN’T SUPPORTING TOO WELL EITHER.
Sorry for the shouting. I hate time wasted trying to get new technology to
work. How much of our lives have we spent carefully following instructions,
agreeing to the small print, clicking on everything, entering passwords and
then finding that, as Miss. Clavel famously said, “something is not right”? I
bet that’s how heaven goes these days.
St. Peter, “We had the gates tested not long ago. Try swiping your card again.
No? Were you perhaps standing near a magnet when you died?”
Theological questions for a Sunday: will there be chickens in heaven? And
which direction will divine wind come from?
David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
