Day 993 Games & Kerfuffles

 

Let the games begin—there’s nothing quite like the Queen of Hearts drawing at our Elks Lodge. It’s become such a hot ticket, they don’t even announce the pot size anymore. Too many people were crawling out of the woodwork when the number got high. Now, when the Queen isn’t picked, they just give us a mysterious, “The pot continues to grow,” and leave the rest to our imaginations.

With only a dozen or so cards left, I’d guess it’s close to twenty grand, maybe even more. I never buy more than five dollars' worth, sticking to the motto that it only takes one to win. But there are always a few high-rollers tossing down a hundred bucks for a shot at the elusive Queen.

No one won last night, so the excitement rolls on to next Monday. The drawing used to be on Fridays, but the Lodge would get absolutely packed—standing-room only, elbows flying, drinks sloshing. They moved it to Monday hoping things would calm down. We’ll see how well that plan holds up once there are just a few cards left. My guess, it won't matter what night when the pot is at its max.

I slipped out right after the drawing, eager for an early night. That plan didn’t last long.

Around 2 a.m., a full-blown kerfuffle broke out in the chicken coop. My girls were going nuts—not the “we’re being eaten” squawking, more like sheer panic. Oddly, none of the motion-sensor lights kicked on, so I couldn’t see what the fuss was about. Naturally, I sent Tim out with a flashlight. He did a perimeter check, but found nothing—no glowing eyes, no rustling bushes, no evidence of a midnight stalker other than a slight noise of crunching leaves.

Still, all the hens had jumped down from their perches and were clearly shaken. It took them 45 minutes to calm down and get back to sleep—longer for me. I laid there with one ear tuned for danger, drifting in and out of worried half-sleep.

Nights like that make me think twice about ever leaving them alone overnight. It only takes one predator and no one around to intervene. So today, I’m on coop patrol—inspecting every nook and cranny, tightening latches, sealing gaps, and reinforcing any spots that look even remotely suspicious.

Honestly, I may need to win that Queen of Hearts. The coop could use a few upgrades—and maybe a security system worthy of Fort Knox to protect my precious hens.