Tuesday
Mar162010
March 16, 2010 What's the Matter, Colonel Sanders?
They just loooove to rub it in.
In my county, it's illegal to keep poultry on less than an acre. Loud, destructive, hostile dogs? Sure! Virtually-silent, naturally recycling, sedate chickens? No way! And we live on a corner, in a neighborhood where we've been cited three times after our lush, verdant landscaping overstepped the iron-fisted county code, so I don't think there's any way around it. Truthfully, I'd rather have ducks (after reading this book) than chickens, but I'd rather avoid the fines than have ducks.
However, I am hopeful: at a local happy hour last week, I met one of the candidates who hopes to replace our troubled local representative for the county council. He agrees that the ordinance is an affront to femivores everywhere, and he's promised to overturn the anti-compost law to boot. Today I heard from a friend that one of the other candidates, a woman, actually keeps her own chickens (illegally, I guess? Or maybe she has that coveted acre.) Things are looking up for the pro-poultry caucus.
I'm thinking about gardening because the snow has finally, mercifully left us, leaving me itching to dig in the dirt. I planted my first batch of seeds (tomatoes and peppers) several weeks ago, and after checking them obsessively for several days, I forgot about them for several more. That unique combination did the trick, as when I happened to look this afternoon, I was shocked to see dozens of inch-long shoots craning their necks to reach a patch of sunlight. Yesterday I braved the incessant rain to pick up a garbage bag full of trash that had accumulated over the long winter, thanks (again) to our corner lot. Along the way I pulled some weeks, cleared out dead foliage and delighted in the tiny shoots of green at the bases of almost every one of my plants. Even the arugula, buried for weeks under 4 feet of snow, is producing bright green leaves in defiance of all logic.
Sharon Astyk recently explained her Independence Days challenge, and though I've been too intimidated by her until now to do anything but read with awe, I'm considering taking it on. I couldn't possibly do all the things she mentions each week, but maybe each month. Maybe. It's something I care about, and I'm much too prone to talking instead of doing.
In my county, it's illegal to keep poultry on less than an acre. Loud, destructive, hostile dogs? Sure! Virtually-silent, naturally recycling, sedate chickens? No way! And we live on a corner, in a neighborhood where we've been cited three times after our lush, verdant landscaping overstepped the iron-fisted county code, so I don't think there's any way around it. Truthfully, I'd rather have ducks (after reading this book) than chickens, but I'd rather avoid the fines than have ducks.
However, I am hopeful: at a local happy hour last week, I met one of the candidates who hopes to replace our troubled local representative for the county council. He agrees that the ordinance is an affront to femivores everywhere, and he's promised to overturn the anti-compost law to boot. Today I heard from a friend that one of the other candidates, a woman, actually keeps her own chickens (illegally, I guess? Or maybe she has that coveted acre.) Things are looking up for the pro-poultry caucus.
I'm thinking about gardening because the snow has finally, mercifully left us, leaving me itching to dig in the dirt. I planted my first batch of seeds (tomatoes and peppers) several weeks ago, and after checking them obsessively for several days, I forgot about them for several more. That unique combination did the trick, as when I happened to look this afternoon, I was shocked to see dozens of inch-long shoots craning their necks to reach a patch of sunlight. Yesterday I braved the incessant rain to pick up a garbage bag full of trash that had accumulated over the long winter, thanks (again) to our corner lot. Along the way I pulled some weeks, cleared out dead foliage and delighted in the tiny shoots of green at the bases of almost every one of my plants. Even the arugula, buried for weeks under 4 feet of snow, is producing bright green leaves in defiance of all logic.
Sharon Astyk recently explained her Independence Days challenge, and though I've been too intimidated by her until now to do anything but read with awe, I'm considering taking it on. I couldn't possibly do all the things she mentions each week, but maybe each month. Maybe. It's something I care about, and I'm much too prone to talking instead of doing.
Reader Comments (3)
My jaw dropped when I read there is an anti-composting law! When I clicked on your link and read about the rats, I could see how they came up with that. At my sister's old place in the city, we set my Father's birthday cake to cool on the back porch. We went to get it about 10 minutes later and scared a rat off the table to find his paw prints and nibble marks in the cake. One would think that a composter in the city would be especially responsible and use a bin that has a door to make it difficult for animals to get to it. But, I guess rats don't need one more reason to hang around. I've heard stories from teacher friends in inner-city Baltimore who had students that had been chewed on in their sleep, or just plain bitten by rats. Their clothes were sometimes chewed up.
I think there might need to be some regulations in place in the city, but I do not think that should be a county-wide law. I do not think you have the same issue with rats in your neighborhood that the city has.
Abusum non tollit usum! It seems to me there are other ways to keep rats away.
Also, oddly, it's legal in Baltimore City, where I would imagine the rodent problem is far worse -- I have never seen a rat in the county, though I'm sure they're around occasionally.
WHAT?! It's legal in the city but not everywhere else in the county?!! THAT'S ri-DIC-ulous!
Sounds like a law that isn't very common-sense, but passed because a few rich people demanded it.
(That's how cynical I am about politics).