Sunday, March 18, 2007

The Opening Salvo

It's been busy here on the farm. Birds are to begin arriving on Tuesday morning so the weekend was spent getting the 'houses' ready. (Football field in size, they are called chicken 'houses' as opposed to barns, coops or even Palais de Poulet, the name of Martha Stewart's chicken house.) This involves moving the tons of nasty, stinking chicken litter from the last flock and replacing it with fresh clean sawdust. It's quite an operation that requires men, muscle and machinery and there was plenty of that.

Even Charlotte and I got into the act. Our duties: The feeding and watering of a five person crew. We fixed breakfast: Fluffy, farm fresh eggs, crispy bacon, grits and light as air biscuits were served. We brewed pots of hot coffee and had Red Bull for the younger set. We fixed lunch: Sandwiches with a chilled red bean and rice salad so good it makes you want to holler. (MMM. Charlotte is a world class southern cook. Email me for the recipe!) We did cold beer and Red Bull runs. Then we fired up the smoker and started fixing supper before going to bed and doing it all over again.

As you can imagine the idea of an adult beverage and some relaxing conversation is much appreciated after that kind of day. Unless you're trying to avoid all discussion of politics, that is. Then the consumption of adult beverages is like throwing gasoline on a flickering fire.

Well, Charlotte had already had a couple of glasses of wine (Clos du Val Chardonnay) before firing off the opening salvo. It was a glorious rant about the government's involvement in victimless crimes like pot-smoking, prostitution and wait for it...IMMIGRATION. This spiraled into an indictment of hapless Alberto Gonzalez and a withering diatribe against George W. Bush and lying. I let her rant - sometimes I find it amusing to see just how far people are willing to go these days. Okay, I admit it. I even egg them on, Just a little bit.

Libs are very angry people.

They are so funny sometimes, too.

Supper was at a long trestle table in their cozy, farm kitchen. Delicious cedar smoked salmon, was served with steamed asparagus and a wonderful lemony dill rice on the side. It was during dinner that the topic of immigration reared its ugly head again.

Charlotte's husband - let's call him The Squire, has just returned from a deep sea fishing trip to Costa Rica. During supper I listened to all the details of his trip. It sounded like a helluva lot of fun. Dinah has done some deep sea fishing in her day and she was very interested in hearing about his 250 lb Black Marlin catch. The Squire is now enthralled with Costa Rica and is now looking at villa properties there. Part of the reason for his enchantment?

Wait for it...


So, let me make sure I understand this. Charlotte would willingly open our borders to all and sundry, turning this country into a third world shithole while swanning off to her Costa Rican villa with their strictly enforced immigration policy.

Typical leftie hypocrisy.

The irony of this situation is deeper than 5 million pounds of chicken litter. And after this weekend at the farm I can tell you that's pretty damn deep.

More later - Dinah