If you follow this column, you might recall that in early June I embarked on a month-long Midtown staycation/house-sitting adventure. As of this writing, I’ve been back at my own home for 11 days, but — this being the staycation issue and all — I figured I’d offer a brief and final follow-up of my time away. You may remember me writing in this space about how I first had to work up the courage to pick up a chicken from her nesting box, or how the following week, one of the hens decided to show me she was boss by literally pecking me into my place in the pecking order.
I had no prior knowledge of tending to chickens (but plenty of knowledge of chicken tenders, heh) and was in for a learning experience. By the last day, though, I considered myself a bit of an expert hen handler. My at-first broody friend Pancake and I wound up becoming best buds. Some evenings, instead of going to the coop at dusk with the rest of the flock, she’d pace around the window sill, eyeballing me as if to ask, “Can I come inside with you instead?” She couldn’t, of course, so I’d go out and pluck her gently from the sill and lead her to her friends, where they’d be locked in safe and sound for the night. As part of our last goodbye, I picked her up, for no particular reason other than I could, and held her against my hip, lovingly stroking her peachy blonde feathers as she cooed in contented response. The “mean” one, Geli, and I became friends, too — as long as I came out with cold cucumber or grapes every once in a while, she was cool — and there were no further pecking incidents.
I took several videos of our morning ritual, wherein I’d come around the corner from the back porch, the hens gathered impatiently at the coop door awaiting release (and breakfast). I propped the phone up on a ledge to capture footage of my first reluctant attempts at picking up a chicken (it’s embarrassing, really, so those are reserved for my viewing only). And I have an absurd number of pictures of hens grazing, chilling in my lap, dust bathing, or window sitting. With the surplus of eggs I found myself with, I baked my first quiche — with broccoli and cheese and the freshest eggs imaginable. I really miss the girls (and I even joined a Facebook group called Midtown Chicken People and have pondered adopting a flock of my own; more on that later, maybe). In that month, I learned a lot about chickens, and myself — just me and five hens (and two skittish cats) in a big ol‘ empty house not five miles from my own.
I’m accustomed to my neighborhood walks near U of M, but the Midtown strolls were lovely in a different way. Busier streets, lively local venues and restaurants — the whole area teeming with energy. I popped over to trivia night at Slider Inn one evening; another, I walked to dinner at Hattie B’s. One late afternoon, I followed the sound of live music to a gathering in a church parking lot nearby. Some days, I’d venture out aimlessly, just soaking it all in. Ultimately, I spent that time in a Memphis I wasn’t so familiar with — not from that vantage point, at least. An enjoyable staycation all around.
Of course, you all likely won’t have an opportunity to house-sit and care for hens as I did. But I think our “Stay & Play” cover feature may give you some inspiration to enjoy our city in ways you might not have before — from free art and tourist attractions, to an international food tour, to live music, to sports events, to a night on the town, to tending your own garden with an assist from local horticultural experts. Even if you’re a lifelong Memphian, there’s a lot to discover beyond your own four walls, if you’re willing to get out and give it a try.
While I’ve bid adieu to the chicken at the window, more facets of Memphis await on the other side of that particular summer staycation. I hope you’ll join me in exploring those parts that draw people here, year after year.