Yes. I've Lost My Mind - Chicken Diapers

Yeah! It's October, and summer is on the wane. Last night I was actually chilly, though I'm not pulling out the down comforter just yet.

The chicks are HUGE! They are grow so rapidly that I never know what I will find when I come home evenings. Pinfeathers in the morning can be huge fat feathers by evening. The 'girls' perk up and chatter their heads off when I get in. They think I'm the awesome bearer of the universally stupendous treat - meal worms! Ugh... I agree. Meal worms are totally for the birds.

I try to keep the chickarium, which is now a two bedroom chick flat, interesting. There's a parakeet thingmabob the girls like to peck at. Meal worms are good for a good half hour of entertainment. I usually join right in, tapping the cage litter by the creepy crawlies to alert the girls to a worm that's trying for a fast get-away.

Here's the girls a few days ago, playing a chick version of King-of-the-hill.


I enjoy having the girls run around the living room, but their poo is a bit much. I decided am done with cleaning up the mess. So, I sent away for chicken diapers - yes, you read that right. First up, you have to be prepared for the worst if you look up 'chick diapers' on line - don't ask. But I belong to a chicken forum and found a lady who makes diapers for her beloved chickens. I ordered some and was certain the girls would take to them easily. After all, diapers mean they can run around freely for their brain development and my entertaining - or maybe the reverse?

The girls were NOT having it. Colette and Adele were my test-chicks. Popped into her nappy, Adele just rolled onto her side, Shreiking indignantly. Le petite Colette walked & hopped - backwards. *sigh* The experiment was a failure for the day.


After some deep thought, I did a little sewing surgery to give the diapers a better fit. Success! It was Colette who mastered the fine art of diaper wearing. I kept calling her over to me with a reward of juicy live worms. Any indignity, even a diaper is OK if it yields a wormy reward.

Yes, I know Colette seems a bit down in the photo below, but never fear, that is just the way a chicken face looks. Note that the business end of the diaper is a pouch to catch... you know. My brave little pullet ran around the living room with no trouble, only stopping to preen every now and again.

First Graduate of the Chez Claire
'Chicken Diaper Doctorate Program'
That's Ami on the left, protesting her
pink diaper with a sit-down strike

I'm determined to get all of the chicks romping around in diapers sooner or later. Doesn't Collette look all attractive in her baby blue "Depends"? Notice her lovely feathered leggings and that attractive, recently grown in tail. The chicks went from wee things to thriple their hatch weight in just 33 days.

Learn Something New Every Day

Pundits predict the world will end in 2012 because that is when the Mayan Calendar runs out of days. That makes no sense to me. I say the Mayan were only tired of chipping years into the monoliths they carved their calendar onto. Had the Mayans used paper and pen, I say they'd have ventured to write up many more years. I mean really - I'm sure the Mayan stone chippers were all gotten carpal tunnel syndrome or some such, from all the chiseling - or maybe not.

There are also people who think the world is surely ending by 2012, because Obama was elected, and the shite-noggins believe the Prez is the Antichrist; their logic beginning with him being Black. They also seem to think if the world does screech to a halt, THEY WIN! That's because while the agnostics/atheists & non-Christians will race about, while being torn limb from limb by beasts and such, while whoever wins the 'We are the true chosen ones' contest shout, 'We won! Told you so, nanner, nanner, nanner!' and thumbing their ethereal noses at their fellow humans. The ones who were not picked for rescue at the time of THE REVELATION.

And finally there are the New Agers, a group I very nearly belong to, who believe that while life may not end altogether, that in 2012, there shall absolutely be an uplifting of mankind (after all, Obama was elected) to 'the next plane of existence'. Now come on - don't you secretly prefer all of us gaining powers of invisibility or paranormal powers, rather than being ceaselessly tortured for an eternity? Shoot - if there's a vote, on all this, I'm checking the box next to the New Age explanation of 2012. Hey, their scenario is a win-win all the way for everyone. Most democratic I say.

Still, 2012 is not by a long shot, the only point that was marked for the demolition of human kind. Everyone knows there have been loads of times people believed the world was coming to an end, hence the, at last count, 5 b'jillion cartoons about the guy in the sandals with the billboard.


So, wonder anyone patient enough to read this far, 'what prompted this mini-outburst?' Glad you asked! I discovered my father and my nephew are accidental name sakes one doomsdayer type prophet. No lie - read this, which is from Salon.com and was slightly edited by 'moi':


Prophet: William Miller

Date Willie predicted for THE END (ARRRGGGGHHH)!: Between March 21, 1843, and March 21, 1844

Willie's Second Guesses: April 18, 1844, and Oct. 22, 1844.

What Was Going to Happen?: Christ would return.

What went down: This might be the most touching failed prophecy ever. Millerism (Yes, MILLERISM! Gives you kind of a chill, doesn't it?) was an acutely eschatological strain of Baptism that emerged in upstate New York during the Second Great Awakening (the same time and place that produced Mormonism). Ye old founder, William Miller, believed that, with a close reading of the Bible, he could pinpoint the Second Coming. By beginning his count at 457 B.C. and taking the biblical "days" to mean "years," he settled on some time between March 21, 1843, and March 21, 1844. When the window closed, with no sign of the savior, he revised to April 18, 1844, then re-revised to Oct. 22. But damn it - we're all still here. Wrote follower Henry Emmons, "I waited all Tuesday, and dear Jesus did not come ... I lay prostrate for 2 days without any pain -- sick with disappointment."

Yes baby, I know... I know...!

Since 1844, Millerism has evolved into Seventh-day Adventism, which tends to be more cautious about getting followers' hopes up.

Obama is the antichrist - what a crock. Anyone with a brain cell knows that I am the antichrist. Prove it? Easily.

I was born in September, the 9th month, turn the 9 upside down you get - 6.

I was born on the 6th day of September - 6.

I was born in 1951, add the 5 + 1, you get - 6.

6 6 6 !

There. You must admit, that makes about as much sense as any other Antichrist claim.

The Drive Home - San Juan Bautista Mission

Diane and I were in no hurry to get back up to Sacramento I can tell you. So, on our way up we dropped in for leisurely tour of San Juan Bautista Mission, California's largest mission, just off the coastal HWY 101, and directly on our route from 101 inland. San Juan Bautista is a small town, which Diane recalled visiting decades ago when she grew up in California. She said it really hasn't changed much. The Mission within the town, of course was there a century or two before the town. It was a part of the Missions, which having heard the Native American side of things, wasn't all that wonderful a thing in it's day. Nowadays however, it is one of the oldest of structures in North America and is steeped in history.

San Juan Bautista Corridor
I was surprised - no idea why - that the church is still active after all these centuries. There are four masses every Sunday, and I caught a glimpse of mass. There was a choir practicing at the back. Here - have a listen.


We took a walk through the Mission museum the strolled around the grounds.

When you consider how old the place is, the walls alone were amazing.

Circa 1800 Dining Area

Huge model of the original Mission shaped likea huge square donut on its side - sort of.
Ancient Vestments (Priests robes) on display
Scary Baby Doll Saint & Skull
El Camino Real
Fray Junipera Serra
The good Father stood near the Mission Cemetery, which I'd guess is full of some fairly pissed off Indians. Wouldn't want to hang out there on Halloween.

Mission Cemetery
We liked this statue, which I've since discovered is John the Baptist. I had thought he was Jesus in the wilderness. When this statue was dedicated there was a full ceremony and the spot was smudged with white sage, the whole nine yards. The face of the saint is a composite of faces of Native American Mutsen band of Ohlones who inhabited the Mission 200 years ago.

San Juan Bautista AKA John the Baptist

The critters that rest at the Saint's feet were of great interest to me. A bison, mountain lion and Eagle, all decked out with angelic wings. Here is what is said of the unusual animal figures: The base of the statue bears the Native American equivalent of the symbols of the four evangelists. The face of a mountain lion represents Mark, a bison for Luke, a golden eagle for John... Cool.

The Mountain Lion is St. Mark
An Angelic Eagle is St. John

The Bison, represents St. Luke
Stations of the Cross
Close up of a Station

At the end of the lane by the stations, I saw a cute little flock of chickens composed of a hen and her 3/4 grown chicks. Ought to have taken photos!

I think this is the good Father Serra again, in a wood carving
this time: he rather looks like St. Francis of Assisi here

A little side garden, complete with a saint
There are loads of little things to see as you stroll through the Mission; I was tickled by a stone livestock watering trough. And don't get me started on the flowers - there were umpteen rose beds with roses of every description and color and other flowers besides. Here are a select few that caught my eye.

Enormous Cactus Flower
A Peace rose: I have one at home and LOVE it
This is a famous rose I've seen before and must get for the Gulag Garden
I think putting together this segment of the blog probably took as long, or longer than it took to tour the Mission. However, I sincerely think you would enjoy the Mission better.