Michael and I got home yesterday from our five day Camp Wildling experience, tired and dirty and a little itchy. While Michael parked the camper, I opened up the house, adjusted the thermostat and headed out to check on the chickens. The amount of feathers strewn around the pen tipped me off that we probably had dead chickens. So then Michael cleaned up what was left of our remaining chickens while I unpacked the camper and truck. We are no longer chicken farmers, at least not until next Spring. Marguerite passed away last Tuesday right before we headed off to camp. I traumatized the young person we were training to look in on the chickens when I opened the coop and said ‘This is where the eggs are kept!” only instead of eggs, there was a dead Marguerite. Marguerite died of old age. The last two were murdered. Foghorn, Marguerite, Dorthy and Matilda…you were good chickens. Rest in peace. So say we all and thank you to the Force. Under his eye.

Honestly, I’m sad, but not that sad. I’m pretty impressed that we kept chickens alive and well for seven years. Neither of us knew what we were doing. The whole reason there were four chickens to begin with was because I knew we would lose a chick to something. But we didn’t. All four chickens survived and thrived in our backyard for seven years. I’m giving us pats on the back.

I don’t even know how to tell you about Camp Wildling. It was hot and busy. It was difficult and easy. There was lots of laughter and a little bit of crying. We all have bug bites and some of us are pink from too much sun. I just went to look back at some pictures from camp and I didn’t really take many. I taught two workshops on digital photography and took only a handful of pictures at camp. I went to Amani’s workshop on grief and preparing for death and I took a whole bunch of notes for the book. I sat by the river for a singing bowl concert and expanded my heart. I walked up and down and up and down the steepest hills. I spent time in the pool and even less time on my yoga mat. Maybe, I could come up with a better descriptor than ‘good’ but right now, all I can say is that camp was good.

Maybe I’ll write more later. At the moment, I am just trying navigate a work day.