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My friend Alabam's friend (we'll call him Georg) recently found a chicken wandering in his neighborhood. She (Alabam) relates this story about the chicken:

He put the chicken in his backyard. Then he let it go. It circled the house for a bit, crying loudly. He opened the door to paint the molding around the door and the chicken came up the stairs and right inside. Georg then rescued a take-out salad someone had spilled in the street and let the chicken feast on that in the kitchen. Stray chicken enjoyed stray salad. Then the chicken roamed the house, stepping in the paint tray and leaving chicken prints on the drop cloth. Georg wiped his feet. And bought a cage for her.

A day or so later, the chicken laid an egg AND GEORGE COOKED AND ATE IT!!! I know intellectually chickens lay eggs, but this guy had a very close-up view of the process that produced the actual egg he ate. This blows my mind, because I am a child of suburbia and Food Comes From A Store.

Then the chicken didn't lay any more eggs. Georg found some friends who already have a coop of chickens, and they adopted Georg's chickens. Alabam says she hopes the coop gang is nice to the new chicken.

Coincidentally, I recently had a dream I was back at college, except college was on both banks of the Willamette River just south of downtown Portland, and Georg was a Buddhist monk who instead of resembling himself, resembled a guy from my dharma center. I know it was him, though, because the college had taken a still from the video surveillance cameras which they'd surreptitiously planted all around campus, and taken a photo of this monk on a bicycle, carrying a bamboo mat behind him, because that's what the Buddhist monks at college DO, don't you know, and captioned the photo: "[Georg's last name,] [Georg's first name.]" The dream centered around the theft of certain items from an on-campus juice and smoothie bar. The thief was eventually identified as a woman named "Jenny Miller," played by a girl who was a class behind me in high school, the thought of whom has not crossed my mind in ten and a half years. I do not know her real name. The panel of college administrators investigating the case included Sylvester Stallone.

On Tuesday, I drove a dharma friend (female) home from the dharma center.

HER: So, do you have a dog?
ME: No.
HER: Do you have any cats?
ME: No, I don't.
HER: Do you have any other pets?
ME: ... No.
HER: .......

Reason #4,567 why my sister kicks ase: Excerpts from recent email:
"OHMIGOD, what are they doing outside my apartment, testing the world's first hovercar? BIG annoying humming whooshing noise."

"There are a FEW things that can get messed up twixt Mac and Win
Word, just as there are twixt two versions of Word for the same OS. But
you probably won't come up against them unless you're doing mondo-picky
layout for colorful brochures for Asia-Pacific sales meeting attendees
and transferring back and forth between the two (WHICH I do not
recommend.) They don't always have all the same fonts, either. That's
about the size of it. "