Can you see it in the dark?

There's been a mystery percolating in the hen house. The litter inside the nest has been super clean lately which is unheard of for a bird house that sleeps five hens. At the very same time, the roof of their hen house has become extraordinarily soiled. Any idiot would immediately realize that the hens were roosting on the roof. But when? I never see them on it during the day.

So I went out there tonight on a hunch. With my camera (you know, for evidence). Sure enough, my girls are sleeping al fresco. Which probably means I haven't been cleaning out their house enough. Poor birds. All five of them are laying now. All in the same little warm corner of the coop. (They take turns, which I think is so charming considering that there are at least three other corners to choose from.)

Now, I feel like maybe I need to explain something around here. I've been spouting off opinions and bringing up screwy topics about social behaviors, and putting my own interpretations on them. Why on earth should any one care what anyone else does, or wears, or says, or thinks? That is an excellent question. Most people I talk to say they believe in a "live and let live" sort of deal where they figure what other people do is none of their business and therefore they have no right to an opinion. I have a different take on that. I don't believe I have any right to interfere with what other people do, think, believe, or desire, so long as they are not breaking the law or violating anyone else's rights. That doesn't stop me from being interested in what others are up to.

Without curiosity, without questioning others on their habits, thoughts, and opinions, how would we know anything at all about each other? I am endlessly curious about the way people live, the minute details of human life, what makes each of us different, why does one person feel that the color blue is restful and tranquil while it reminds others of death? What anthropologists have found out about people through the food they eat, the rituals they've observed, and the clothes they've worn is amazing. In the big picture it would be difficult to have come this far as a species without group study, without knowing why some people have large breasts while other poor sods like myself barely got a mention on the chest. (For the record, I like having small boobs. I find the bra selection for my size quite awful though.)

Sometimes I think I missed my calling. I would have been satisfied to spend my life studying the social behaviors of people. As some of you have observed, I'm not afraid to forward ideas about why people behave a certain way, or not. I'm not afraid of finding out I'm wrong about those ideas either, but it takes a lot of discussion sometimes to find out my thinking has been based on a faulty premise. I am not willing to believe that just because a person has a right to do what they want with themselves that everything they choose to do is healthy and good.

Because I know so many people who are very liberal, open minded, and also compassionate, I think I can sometimes appear to be one nosey, snarky, and judgemental bag-o-blood-n-bones. As it happens, I am in reality a pretty open minded person. I don't find it difficult to accept that I am surrounded by people who live differently than me, believe differently than me, and see differently than me. (Or wear different styles than me.) But that doesn't mean I don't want to know why. It also doesn't mean I agree not to have opinions about the choices other people make.

I like to know about people, all those details; not to design new ways to generate derision for people who are different than me, but to foster better understanding of who the hell they are in the first place. I can't respect people whose motivations I don't understand. Respect is something (in my experience and opinion) that develops with understanding.

Will I end up getting myself killed by a thong-wearing dominatrix? Probably.

If it weren't for the awful amount of paperwork involved, I would have become an anthropologist. (It also would have helped if someone had told me there was a career out there based on the study of human habits and social behaviors before I got out of highschool)

Maybe I feel comfortable examining life in detail because I have been the object of scrutiny quite a lot myself because I have not often fit into social groups comfortably. People have not always been kind, but I've always understood their curiosity. No one has known where to put me, where I fit in. I have to say that the people who helped me most during the worst times in my life were people who made my business their business, people who asked me why I do what I do and if there weren't healthier ways to live? The people who became most valuable to me were people who dared to get personal and question me, to notice both what good I had to offer and to find what was hurting.

Incidentally, my curiosity is far from limited to humans. The whole world's my oyster when it comes to interesting things to find out about.

So, in the spirit of raising questions, (for those of you who enjoy this sort of thing too), here are a few things I'm quite curious about:

• I have questioned a few thong underwear wearing people about what they like about thongs and generally they say that they like them because they're comfortable, and because they eliminate panty visibility. (I can't speak for other people's comfort, but they are generally wrong about the visibility factor.) However, what I'm dying to ask but have not been brave enough to ask until this moment is: damn. Still can't do it. (See, even I have limits.)
  

• How many people have the urge to hurl themselves over the edge of a bridge when they're crossing one?

• How did some ants discover that aphids could be milked for their sticky "dew"? Did it happen by accident as in: an ant bumped into an aphid and discovered that the "dew" on its body not only tasted good but was nutritious. Or was it an act of curiosity as in: "hmm, those aphids are exuding a sticky milky substance, I wonder if we could lick it off of them every single day to feed our troupes?"

• Why does Donald Trump insist on wearing his hair in a comb-over? Does he simply like the sweeping long look of it, or does he actually believe in his heart of hearts that he is disguising his thinning hair? (Um, this comes to me because I dreamt last night that he finally cut his hair and looked way more trustworthy and not nearly so icky.)

Well, I end this evening with this statement, from my trusty companion in curiosity, Max: "Mom, do you want me to bury you in the back yard when you die? I don't want to be buried in a grave yard because I think it will be too creepy at night."