It never occurred to me that I could end up with the label that I currently have. I’ve been called a lot of things. I’ve probably even earned a few of those titles.
It all began on Good Friday when my regular childcare provider needed some back-up on watching my side-kick. Her parents were coming in from out of town and she wanted to spend time with them. This sounded reasonable, so I asked my parents to help.
They should be in the field planting corn and soybeans right now, but we’ve had way too much rain for that to happen. So, they agree to help for the day.
My little buddy is also their little buddy. They took him to town to run some errands and stop by the local feed mill to pay a bill on the way to lunch.
So the story goes….they take care of business at the feed mill, visit with the manager, look around in the store, and go outside to watch forklifts and trucks moving around at work. They’re ready to get in the car when my dad gets waylaid by someone else that he knows and hasn’t visited with in a while. Then the manager’s wife (all aforementioned characters are acquainted with our little buddy) shows up. Somehow my little buddy gets back inside? My dad is still outside visiting.
Supposedly my little buddy comes walking out of the mill office with a feeder and waterer when the manager’s wife comes behind with…
I just need to share how much internal turmoil I have about admitting this kind of stuff in such a public place as the internet. I’m so tempted to close the document without saving. This has been hard enough to say in a group of close friends. In fact I really haven’t told many people at all.
I had hoped it was a figment of my imagination.

Did they do this to embarrass me? Is this some kind of harassment? Or cruel and unusual punishment? Sure, I’ve still got a lot of room for improvement, but I haven’t done anything bad enough to deserve chickens!!!

That I work for the pork council, PROMOTING PORK isn’t exactly a secret! Until two months ago (when the slogan changed to Pork, Be inspired) I spent my time promoting the OTHER white meat.
Am I really supposed to go to events, pass out recipes and encourage people not to overcook pork while I (mother of a chicken farmer) have chicks at home that need taken care of?
I really want to place the blame on somebody, so that I’d feel more comfortable (less guilty) handing over the chickens when they outgrow the cute little chick stage. Who would be the best future owner, the babysitter maybe?
I just want to figure out some reasoning as to why anyone would give someone who loves pork like I do chickens? Why would you even consider taking the wind out of my pork promoting sails? Then it occurred to me. The woman who gave my little buddy the chicks, she and her husband (also the mill manager) raise beef cattle.