The Chickens Go To Live With Mom And Dad

The chickens don't know they've moved a hundred miles. They just think the scenery outside their cage as changed.

Andrew and I spent Friday afternoon and evening along with Saturday morning constructing a new chicken run (almost exactly like the old one) and moving the chickens to Gladstone to live with my parents. I'm still a little sore from it. Who knew using a staple gun could be such a workout?
When we got home late Saturday afternoon, I looked at the empty chicken coop in our back yard and started crying. Silly of me? Maybe. It's not as if they died. I can still visit. All the same I miss they and the back yard is oddly silent.
I've been refusing to admit it to myself but my emotional reaction of giving away the chickens probably has a lot to do with my fears about the uncertainty with respect to the immediate future. Andrew might be moving away in a week to start a new job north of Seattle. I still have six weeks of school left. If he gets the job, we will only see each other on weekends and of skype for the next month and a half. That's not so bad... lots of people do that. I've been acting like it's not big deal or a least trying to. I shouldn't because it is. So there. I admit it. Uncertainty and the likelihood that Andrew will be 5 hours drive away scares me. Isn't writing great. It makes me oddly honest.