Oh, the weekly update. So much happens here every day, and yet it seems there is so little to say each week. Thursday evening Heather and Chuck returned from a 10-day excursion to a festival called Alchemy, Georgia’s local version of Burning Man. We got back just in time for the yoga weekend that started on Friday. Over the weekend we were blessed with ongoing yoga classes, two Hostel meals a day, and lots of amazing guests. As their karma yoga (devotional service) project, the guests raked and cleaned our beautiful labyrinth. The labyrinth is a huge undertaking for one or two people, but about a dozen yoga weekenders gave it lots of love and lit the whole thing with luminaries, followed by a labyrinth-walking meditation after dinner. It was really beautiful to see the labyrinth get some much-deserved love and attention.

The chickens have begun a turf war over the still-drying cob kitchen. A couple of hens have been laying their eggs in the cob oven for weeks now, but yesterday we discovered a bona-fide chicken nest. In a low spot of the counter, a hen has scratched the cob (made of clay and straw) until it turned into dirt and straw, then bedded down and made herself at home. What drew our attention to that part of the kitchen in the first place was Dank Jr. (the top cock) standing on a built-in cutting board and crowing. Being top cock, he was surrounded by several of the biggest hens, including the one who had made a nest in the cob. So for the rest of the afternoon, we would chase the hens and Dank Jr. away from the kitchen and they would return to roost a few minutes later. We’ll see how this turf war progresses as we get closer to the time we expect to be using the new kitchen as the full-time dinner kitchen.

What I’m about to talk about actually happened in late September, but it was never mentioned in the weekly update, so I’d like to now. Our hen population had been shrinking due to predators and old age, and more and more hens kept figuring out they were actually roosters! With only about 20 hens and five roosters, the competition for top cock was fierce and unwelcome. So the decision was made to eliminate two of the roosters. Frank (aka Francois aka Falcor) was top cock long ago, and is now a harmless loner in the Forest, so he was safe. Fritz is too small to bother anyone, so he was safe as well. Dank Jr. is top cock, and it’s just not right to get rid of the top cock. It’s very confusing for the chickens’ social order. Dank was once top cock, and a fine one. And a guest offered to take Dank off our hands to be top cock for the hens he intends to raise. Which left us with Golden Boy, a beautiful rooster who was too rough with the hens. His favorite hens were missing most of their back feather and had gouges underneath their wings. Rather than pawn off such an abusive rooster on someone else’s hens, the staff all agreed we would rather eat him. Late one night (the night before Autumnal Equinox) Whitney caught him as he slept in his new roost in the kitchen window and put him in a wooden crate. On the Equinox itself, we took Golden Boy out by the lake. With much respect and plenty of ceremony, Poppy killed Golden Boy quickly and honorably. Whitney and Heather plucked him and Heather cleaned, de-boned and cooked him. His meat was delicious, and his feathers are beautiful. I’ve used several of his feathers in a pair of earrings; Heather and I are making a headdress out of his longest tail-feather for the Lord or Lady of Cataan to wear; and I’m sure his other feathers will be put to good use as well. I’m glad I had the opportunity to watch an animal die: I will think of it every time I see chicken in the store or on someone’s plate. And each time I choose to eat meat in the future, I will be reminded that, even if I didn’t have to watch it, an animal died somewhere to make that meat. And they almost certainly died with far less honor and respect than Golden Boy.

May your path be bright with Truth and Love and . . .

The Hostel Staff