Chickens.

When I moved into this house in the southwest section of metropolitan Atlanta a little over 2 years ago, it wasn't the house that grabbed me. The house was old – and I love old – but it lacked the character I was hoping for. I was hoping for the built-in cabinetry and 3 over 1 windows of a Craftsmen bungalow; this one was more of a farm house. The floors were painted a depressing dark brown, the walls a depressing dark tan, the layout of the house was confusing, there had been no modernization for what looked to me like at least 50 years. But when I made my way to the back door and looked out onto the generous, sunlit back yard with fig trees and a pear tree, all I could say was, "I could have chickens here." That was probably 80% of the reason I said, "I'll take it."

I haven't given up on the chicken dream; I just travel too much right now. But this past weekend I joined 20 something neighbors, meeting most of them for the first time, on the East Point Chicken Coop Tour. We spent about 20 minutes at each of 7 participating houses. We were escorted through charming and productive urban gardens, where I lusted after huge piles of mulch, beautifully groomed grapevines, healthy lush vegetable gardens, thriving beehives and chicken coops of every size and style. All within a 5 mile radius of my house.

So totally cool.

And so totally cool to meet my neighbors, one of which (I hope you don't mind, Ruth) has been reading my blog for 2 years. When she realized this week that I live only blocks away from her, she said it was kinda' creepy. I have to agree. I got to see Ruth's beautiful watercolor today when I bought a used lawnmower from her and her husband. I am so thrilled to have met another artist so close by. And I am thrilled with my new lawnmower. And I'm even more thrilled with my neighborhood.

One of these days I'm going to have chickens.