The Historic Commission has decided that something must be done about the Hen House Roof up at Old Flemerfelt Farm. It's about nearly caved in. It's ugly, it's dangerous. It is not historically accurate. The hens wouldn't recognize it. They voted that Hen House Roof Action be taken. Agenda Item 12.
4 ayes, 2 neighs, 1 abstention. That was Charles Line. He left early out of protest after he was refused a seat on account of not wearing a tie. Third time this term, by the way.
The trouble with the roof was it would just fill up with holes. The school children would come through and they'd take out their anger on the hen house with rocks and little whips made of Hickory branch. Which was all in keeping with the custom of the time. In this county, you learned never to voice your displeasure to a person's face, but instead to hold it in. Let it smolder and stew inside, until you were left alone near farming architecture. And then a man would just become…ugly.
This was allowed. It let the community function. People spend 8, 9, sometimes 10 hours a day sewn together in pairs of three-legged pants with their neighbor and they just… they can't. They look up at that big America sky and they start to ask questions. “Why me, Sun God. Why me?”
You just can't have that. It's better that a man punches a barn or recklessly drives himself into a silo. The Hen House is small enough for our pre-pubescents to not feel intimidated. They can conquer that, get their minds around it.
But eventually, the center does not hold. Then your streets are filled with ghost chickens – many of them Portuguese – and the Historic Commission must act.
4 ayes, 2 neighs, 1 abstention.
$36.00 has been approved for the purchase of a tarp and bailing twine. The Hen House lives on.