An email exchange this week with my Ukrainian neighbor, who had promised my wife last week that the noisy rooster that she and her boyfriend own (along with half a dozen chickens) was not long for this world.
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Dear Orysia—
Hey, when's the rooster going away? It's outside my writing window, and now everything I write is to the tempo of, "Old MacDonald Had a Farm."
David
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Really sorry David. I just couldn't catch him. Robert is back and I told him to take it to the butcher. Robert asked if you could wait til he could get more fertilized eggs for hatching. Is 14 more days OK? Say schedule execution for February 17? Hope this works for you. Let me know?
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Orysia—
E-i-e-i-no.
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[No I didn't actually say that. But I should have!]
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