The Touch

We’d like some chickens. This is not news at Ranch Double 18.

Did not do the Facebook 25 Random Things List, but had I, numbers 4, 8, 12, 16, 20 and 24 would all have read: My brain, left to its own devices, defaults to repetitive counting, gently forcing the world into 4’s.

We live here at Ranch Double 18 because the RR Number is pleasing to my brain. RR3618. Think about it. 3+6+1+8=18. 18×2=36. 3618. Oh the synchronicity. All these years I have wondered how could I have ended up in the suburbs. How could I have? How? My brain latched onto the numbers stenciled on the curb – 3618 – and I was done for. Signed, sealed and delivered. Well, the comfort is…the end is near, but not here, and perhaps I will make another stop along the route.

Back to the chickens. Here at Ranch Double 18 we would like some chickens. For the eggs. And for the meat, too, later. Egg salad. Roast chicken. Roast chicken you have fed, housed, stared in the eye and killed. And then happily eaten with salt, pepper and mayonnaise. After staring down the olives for their oil for the mayo.

This comes to mind – again – by way of the fact that Silvia did reiki on chickens. And brought them back to real life. Those chickens – at her parents place in Spain – were in rough shape. A shape roughly resembling chickens after the dogs roughed ’em up. You may think that reiki is not real, which renders it unreal in the thought process. Fortunately, for their own sakes in this case, the thought process of chickens is uncomplicated. Their brain waves cut a wide, slow swath, easily latched onto by reiki’s focus and cling.

The question is – back to the those dang chickens here at Ranch Double 18 – could I indeed wring the neck of a chicken? Hell’s bells, I don’t know! Lobsters are one thing. Lobsters have been many things on my plate, all of them dead things, killed with my own two hands. The last time I did it though, I felt a little queasy on the killing part. Perhaps that’s the idea. The eating part was butter nirvana, a clear conscience being key.

Silvia is connected. Well, of course she is connected, she practices reiki, the great connector. Electric. Silvia has a friend and I’m going be needing that friend because, get this, Jaume, the friend, hypnotizes chickens. Stare ’em down, hypnotize ’em, chop ’em up. Nicely. Don’t forget the sea salt and just ground pepper.

Apparently, if you watch enough youtube, you know all about hypnotizing chickens, but I don’t and I don’t, so Silvia did some primary research for me and asked Jaume for a blow by blow. Blow by blow is below:

Hello girls,

My technique consists of taking a hen, putting it on the ground upside down, with the claws pointing to the blue sky, and making it look at my finger or a little stick while I draw a line on the earth with it. After several times doing the line, I would get away from it and leave it in the same position, upside down, staring at somewhere.

Best regards,
Jaume

Know what else? There is no pond here, so we are not tempted by ducks. Good thing, my life is already hanging by a thread. Pecked to death by ducks. Slow, steady, dull thuds. And these are only metaphorical ducks. Spare me the real thing. Chickens, yes chickens. So much safer for the spirit.