Actually it was a coyote. In the wee hours this morning Grandma heard some squallin’ down by the chicken coop. She hastily threw a jacket on over her pajamas and rushed outside … eight chickens too late. Still it could have been worse. The 14 remaining hens were a bit skittish most of the day – wouldn’t you be? – but were otherwise unharmed. Will and Papa spent the afternoon securing the coop against any more intrusions.
Oh… and Hazel is one of the survivors… in case you were wondering.
Today’s to do list was one of the longest ever but I dropped everything to spend a couple of minutes creating Carrot Boy - a slightly pensive soul with perpetual bad hair. The freaky part… my children were not involved. I did it all by myself. Just for myself. I think I will post him up as my new myspace profile picture.
Okay, freak show’s over… everybody back to work.
I’m taking an antibiotic. I don’t normally take medicine so I was having a hard time remembering. Especially since it’s supposed to be taken four times a day. The Doc made it sound real easy as he handed me the prescription.
“You just take it with each meal and once again at bedtime.” HA! That assumes that we have regular meals around here.
”Mom, I’m hungry.”
“Uhm, okay… what about a carrot and this leftover muffin?”
Anyway, today I got the idea to set a timer. I have a countdown clock on my phone so I set it for 6 hrs and reset it after I took the pill. Not so ingenious really but it’s working for me.
if everything happens that can't be done
(and anything's righter
than books
could plan)
the stupidest teacher will almost guess
(with a run
skip
around we go yes)
there's nothing as something as one
one hasn't a why or because or although
(and buds know better
than books
don't grow)
one's anything old being everything new
(with a what
which
around we go who)
one's everyanything so
so world is a leaf is a tree is a bough
(and birds sing sweeter
than books
tell how)
so here is away and so your is a my
(with a down
up
around again fly)
forever was never till now
now i love you and you love me
(and books are shutter
than books
can be)
and deep in the high that does nothing but fall
(with a shout
each
around we go all)
there's somebody calling who's we
we're everything brighter than even the sun
(we're everything greater
than books
might mean)
we're everyanything more than believe
(with a spin
leap
alive we're alive)
we're wonderful one times one
e.e. cummings
Any day that starts with your husband going out to get breakfast for you and coming back with these is bound to go well. In case you can’t quite tell there are ten of them. Today, ten years ago the love of my life proposed to me. He asked in the middle of a crowded Border’s cafe (It was our favorite bookstore at the time.) and I said, “yes” to the cheers of the other patrons. I suspected he was planning a Valentine’s proposal and he knew it; so that tricky boy popped the question two days early. He surprised me then and he surprised me today. The roses came with a day of pampering at a local salon & spa which I am soooo looking forward to. But the best part of the surpise - Will took the day off just so we could be together. He ran errands with me. We went to a doctor appt together. We did laundry and all the other little mundane tasks of my day. It was perfect.
Guys don’t think you have to hang the moon to please your wife. Sometimes it’d just be nice if you’d hang the laundry (or show some appreciation that she does). And ladies, don’t let Hallmark and the jewelers and the florists trick you into thinking he who spends the most loves the most. It’s not about the “stuff”. It’s about relationship.
Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh!” he whispered. “Yes, Piglet?” “Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.” ~A.A. Milne
“Once upon a time, there lived a dinosaur who was really sad. He wanted to have one horn like his mom and dad. He was still a kid though. Only big brachiosaurases had one horn in this story. One day he got more horns than his mom and he was still a kid except he got two horns.”
The End.
I’m sure there is hidden meaning in that story somewhere.
Today’s pictures come courtesy of my father, a long-haul flatbed trucker. They are from a multiple car pile-up he witnessed few winters ago. His was the first truck not involved and as much as I admire my father’s skill as a driver I know that only a miracle stopped his truck inches before it slammed into the motorist in front of him. Obviously, the vehicles involved are “broken” but I wonder too about the lives affected that day. My father spent hours along with rescue workers and other witnesses clearing wreckage and helping the injured. There was at least one fatality that we know of. How many other lives were unexepectedly shattered that day? And how many were saved, like my father, by miracles big and small?
The young, lady driver of the white car above had stepped out of it only moments before and made her way to the top of the hill to survey the damage.
A look at the tangle
A little perspective on the enormity of the situation. Every vehicle you see except the ambulance on the right was involved.
Did you play?
Can I just share the cutest, little thing I found in the chicken coop?
The one on the left is a “normal” Araucana egg and the one on the right … not so normal. And yes, I’m sure it’s not a robin egg.
Speaking of chickens, specifically Auracana’s, I have one (Let’s call her Hazel) that just insists on flying the fence. We have started free-ranging our flock on some property behind their run. I used some lattice to create a not so bad looking way for them to get to the new grazing ground which was a MUCH better solution than allowing them to roam about the yard (too many undesirables left lying around). At least we thought it was a better solution. Hazel either doesn’t agree or she’s a loner because every morning she flies out and spends the day wandering the yard in chicken solitude. I suppose I will have to clip her wings to keep her in. I’m hesitant though because she’s pretty to look at (the other chickens are mostly out of sight) and it’s funny to watch her follow the children around like a puppy. She even occasionally follows the dog around like a puppy. Strange but cute.
In other chicken news I am wondering about dressing out our own hens when their laying days are over. This poem was one of the best descriptions of the process I could find. While it doesn’t sound hard in the logistical sense I still remember visiting Aunt Helen’s House of Poulty Purgatory. Therein existed a certain smell one never forgets. This may be where I draw the line on simple living.
A note to Hubby’s co-workers who are concerned about the recent cessation of date night:
We are not fighting. We are still very much in love. The lines of communication remain wide-open. We have a very nice all-night date coming up for Valentine’s and our regular date will resume as soon as a suitable sitter can be found. Rest assured, in the not too distant future, Will will once again be leaving work early with that silly “got a hot date” grin on his face. I promise.
Lord ~
please forgive IRS caseworker # 64793301 J
she was not having the best day
when I called
or surely she would have been more polite
She would not have been so condescending
or rude
If she hadn’t already delt with
too many
inComPetEnt people
today
How could she have known….
I was not one of them
