A somewhat congenial spot....

O what a beautiful morning....albeit a bit chilly....’n my heater is on...when the heat comes on ‘n we’re still in October it ain’t a good sign....bodes ill for the gas bill which thank Gawd for green apples ‘n little favors, only has t’be paid during the winter months ...well, generally November thru February ‘n maybe a few days in March...
As I get older I find more ‘n more that I’m a fair-weather kind’a guy...I think that Fair Oaks should be like Camelot where the law stated that the ‘weather must be perfect all the year’...’course, it’s prob’ly unreasonable to expect that in a place like Fair Oaks which is only a reasonably congenial spot where we somewhat arbitrarily change the time which is upcoming sooner rather than later when we routinely conform to the bi-annual insanity where we Spring forward ‘n Fall back which means that we have to turn our clocks back an hour which is confusing to people ‘n little dogs....the chickens, of course, have no respect for the peccadillos of mere people..they have their own time clocks....
A lot of people who ‘simply rave about’ the fearless, feral fowl of Fair Oaks seem to have learned their chicken lore from cartoons ‘n believe that roosters only crow to wake up the sun brake for chickens when they come driving thru the village... You see a lot of people stopping to allow the chickens to cross the road....well, California has a law giving pedestrians the right of way ‘n I s’poze a lot of people think it applies to chickens as well...some of the motorists get a little impatient at the meandering chickens ‘n will toot their horns at them...they never really lay on the horn, y’understand, that’d be rude...they do the polite little tap-tap which the chickens ignore.....if they really laid on their horn, the chickens ‘ud ignore that as well....I’ll tell you what the chickens don’t ignore however....if you don’t stop for them, if you don’t even slow down for ‘em.....they won’t ignore you...they ‘ll get out of the way....’n if they make a mistake ‘n don’t move, after they come into contact with the car bumper ‘n the impact sends ‘em rolling along the pavement, they’ll cuss you out something awful....since I don’t really speak chicken, I never know exactly what it is they’re saying, but as an old southern boy, I know when I’m being cussed out......