Buck Buck Buck

The label on the feed sack said "Deer Corn," but apparently the deer don't know this product exists.  So basically we're shelling out the dough to feed our free range chickens.  I don't think a mounted chicken head would have the same effect that a 12 point Boone and Crockett would...even if it were a rooster...with a freak comb.  

A Shoe In

Isn't she beautiful?  This is the newest member of the family.  She came home with us on Thanksgiving day.  We thought of calling her "Macy" (like the parade) but so far we only call her "Kitty," "Pretty Kitty"...and, on occassion, "Brat Cat" (this would be when she does things like climb up our Christmas tree and shake it until everything falls down and breaks...or when she climbs up into a potted plant and kicks all of the dirt out of it).   But, who could get mad at her?  Not me!  I just love her!!!  It all started when we got Snickers (my first cat) and I fell in love.  Now I have an extra soft spot for this little one.  I snapped the above picture of Kitty as she was circling around and around desperately trying to snuggle into my shoe. 

Snug as a Roo in a Robe

That’s my little Roo…content as can be… nestled in my clean, white, plush, robe…on my bed…even thought she isn’t allowed there anymore since I bought a new bedspread.  Oh the pleasures of the forbidden!  She makes me think about all of the times I wasn’t allowed to do certain things…but did them anyway…only to feel remorse and ultimately only wanted to wrap myself in the loving arms of my mother…the bestest most safest place in the world.

The Chicks Dig Justin Bieber

Baby Baby Baby...Ohhh! Bieber fever has reached our coop!  It seems that at least one of our chickens has adopted Justin's famous do.  This rooster can be seen flipping his head up and over to the side in an effort to get his hair...er...comb out of his eyes all day long.  I've even been able to sneak up on him from the right side without him even knowing I'm there.  So far I've only heard him crowing a "normal" crow...but if and when he starts to belt out a tune you can bet I'll bet the first to post it on You Tube! 

Got Calcium?

Just the other day my son brought me a "shell-less" egg.  I had never ever seen anything like it before...I hadn't even heard of such a thing, and yet...there it was.  He told me that it was the third one he had collected over the course of a few weeks.  It turns out it is from some of our younger chickens who are laying for the first time.  I was too chicken to "crack" it open...so we just kept it in the fridge and gently poked it every now and then.  I couldn't help but to wonder "what if?"  What if he had not collected it...could a chick survive in there?  What exactly was in there?  It had the textue and consistency of a saline implant and yet whenever you left it alone it maintained its "egg" shape. 

This got me thinking about our own shells.  Those tough exteriors we hide behind.  When really we are just all mushy on the inside.  We still maintain who we are when no one is making jabs at us.  We are able to just "be."  But all too often we don't let others see that softer side of us.  So afraid of being labeled a "chicken" we allow our shells to get harder and harder...until one day...we crack.  And that's when it all comes out.  The good, the bad, and the ugly.  We literally drain ourselves of all that was meant to be.  So, instead of worrying about what others might think of us...our time would be better spent if we made sure our shells were a little more translucent and soft...enabling not only others to see through to us, but allowing us to see through to them.  Note:  I have a shell of my own and while I certainly don't want it to harden any more than necessary...I am going to be drinking a ton of milk just to be on the safe side!

I'm fine....really.....FINE!

Salmon have NOTHING on me...the whole swimming upstream excuse....in the words of the world's teenagers....WHATEVER!!  Unlike the salmon I don't have the benefit of a refreshing swim...shoot...I don't have the time to bathe anymore...and when I do have time...well...hygenie is nowhere near the top of my to-do list.  I have been away from this blog for way too long and was all geared up to post with avid frequency (this is where the upstream analogy comes into play).  The evil technological forces were doing everything in their powers to prevent such a thing as moi wanting to write to you.  Long and drawn out story short:  I finally found my leotard, tights, and flowing cape and confronted the dark side.  Good won out as it has proven to do time after time (after long time) and here I am!  All of this just to say that it feels so good to be able to finally tell you that within the course of one week I have acquired enough stories to make up for lost time.  School is officially out for the summer for my little chicks, I have one more week left of work, and I have taken care of my son's brood for a couple of days without so much as trailing poop back into the house....now that's skill people! 

Are You Happy Now?!

Two entries ago I described my cat as one who prefers lounging to ...well...just about anything. In an effort to prove me wrong Snickers comes prancing back toward the house this afternoon with a little extra something dangling from her jaws. This is the first time in almost a YEAR that I have ever witnessed such a sight as this. I won't pretend that I didn't consider photographing this milestone for posterity...but there was the dying lizard to consider. While tiny lizards are not necessarily the types of critters that need to be erradicated I was, nevertheless, proud/happy??? for Snickers.

This got me thinking about myself...just because I prefer lounging to...well...just about anything...doesn't mean that I can't exert myself when the need arises....it just hasn't arisen yet.

Toadally

Had to share this picture I snapped the other evening! The grass was moist from a teaser shower and the sun was setting...I ran outside to take a picture of Snickers in the perfect lighting when this toad caught my eye. I was surprised he let me get as close as I did. I desperately tried to get a shot of Snickers and the toad in the same frame but the closest I got was some whiskers and a pair of toad legs flying off to the right. As I reflected on this warty toad I couldn't help but to think about myself. I have had my share of warts pop up on my hands and fingers and my skin has felt awfully dry and scaly. I no longer feel "colorful" but instead feel more drab and dull. On more than one occassion I have blurted out the infamous, "I feel like a toad!" So what is a tired, stressed, disorganized, almost-forty-year-old girl to do? Sit around and wait for "the kiss" that will undo "the spell" and turn me into the princess I used to be? Oh wait...I never was a princess...oh crap...I'm really a toad. At least I can always paint my toadnails and pretend.

Wild Abandon

Roo loves chasing the chickens...but only when one of us is watching. This picture was taken right after I told Roo to "Get 'Em!" Just before that they were all one big happy family. While I don't want Roo constantly chasing and ultimately attacking (eating) our free range chickens I do want her to patrol the porches. Our chickens have the annoying habit of leaving evidence of their visits to our porches most of which eventually ends up in our home if you catch my drift. With the nickname, Rooster, our tiny dog bursts full throttle towards our flock scattering them in all directions upon command. Once she went so far as to return with two tail feathers in her mouth! She proudly bounces back to the door ready to gloat no doubt deserving of a treat. It's fun to watch her looking back over her left shoulder just after reaching where the chickens once were--just to make sure there was a witness. Even though her face cannot be seen you can just feel her delight and know she is smiling.

Peep Show

Our 2nd generation of Silkies have started to hatch! Our mama hen has been sitting on ten eggs for several weeks--all throughout this drastic heat wave. I have made sure to hose down their outdoor coop several times throughout the day and everytime I do the chickens run out from their covered "home" just the same as kids would do at the first sign of a refreshing sprinkler being turned on in the backyard! But Mama Hen...she would sweat it out...she hesitated to leave her nest. Every now and then she would come out...see what all the fuss was about (she has three older chicks) and then would rush back inside to brood. It is truly a marvel to watch things like this...to note the maternal instincts...the sacrifices...the dedication. In the end it pays off...out pops a cute and fluffy chick! The hard part is certainly not over...there are still more eggs to hatch...and of those that are left not all will survive. Mama Hen is overly alert now as she tries to keep her new and curious charge close by. She has older chicks who still try to wedge their way beneath her even though they are almost as big as she is...but she makes room. Her clucking is different now...it is gravelly and lower-pitched...she means business.

My son has been keeping an interval camera on Mama and chick all day long for the past two days. It has been fun to watch a full day's worth of activity in seven minutes. We've witnessed the fact that Mama and baby are never apart from each other. We've noticed that the older chicks are more adventurous now that Mama is otherwise occupied (and the one we've dubbed "Carrot Top" is a camera hog!). We've also realized that no matter what they are a family...one that has grown and is continuing to grow; a family of chickens who makes room for each other despite the tight quarters. Yes, there is a lot more chicken poop to put up with, but there is also a whole new brood to marvel at.

Stuck on You

One of the sheer joys of living in the country is not knowing what the next day has in store for you…that and not knowing which creature will take the “Mi casa es su casa” saying to heart. Take this morning, for example. As soon as I shuffled my way into the kitchen my eyes immediately were drawn to something on my window. It was more or less a large splot and I thought that, perhaps, it was one of those huge moths. Nope. It was a frog…on. my. window. As in, stuck to it with its little webbed toes. As in, don’t these kinds of frogs live in the jungles of Columbia? Of course, I could only see its underside since it was stuck to the glass. I immediately ran to my car to grab my camera out of the trunk before it…hopped??... slid away??? I was amazed to discover that it was not alien green like I would have guessed, but instead, it looked exactly like the bark of an oak tree. My daughter wanted to keep it as a pet but since we were rushing to make it to our church’s early service I wasn’t able to “whip up” a terrarium/biodome/cage/habitat for it…I know…Bad Mama.

Just Keep Swimming

Gal. 6:9

As parents we try to teach our kids all of those golden rules our parents taught us; rules such as treat others the way you want to be treated...you reap what you sow...hard work and perseverance pay off in the end...always do the right thing...honesty is the best policy...etc. As adults we learn that although the above rules are ones to live by it seems as if no one really does. It is so hard to tell your kids one thing while knowing they witness just the opposite. Ultimately we end up preparing our kids for the worst while praying for the best.

After witnessing first hand all of the effort, energy, time, and heart that my son put into raising his 4H chickens I wanted him to be recognized. After all, I knew he worked his tail end off...I knew he loved every single minute of caring for them even when his fingers were red and stinging from having them soaking wet in freezing temperatures...I knew he took pride in what he did. But I am not enough and that is hard to realize sometimes.

A week or so ago, while looking for some boots for my husband, the four of us walked into a very upscale western store. We knew the prices were going to be waaaaay out of our price range, but we also know that sometimes a good deal is in the most unlikely of places. I was pleased to notice that on the wall, just to the right of the entrance was a small, brass plaque, on which was inscribed the following:

"And let us not get tired of doing what is right, for after a while we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't get discouraged and give up." Gal. 6:9.

After looking, but not touching, we exited the store and I pointed out the plaque to my kids-reading the verse out loud and explaining to them what it meant. My son is the one who made the comment, "That's good...I really like that." My son is the reason we were all shopping around for western attire for "the big weekend." My son is the reason I shed tears for two days. For he never tired of doing the right thing and he never gave up...and this weekend, even though his chickens were the lightest chickens in the entire show, and he only received sixth, seventh, and eighth place ribbons...my son won the Bandera County Junior Stockshow SHOWMANSHIP AWARD for 2009!!!

To have your child's efforts recognized by someone else...to know that he did, in fact, reap a harvest of blessing-for doing the right thing...well, it just brought forth tears of joy. It was such a powerful parenting moment -- one that will stay with me forever.

Congratulations, Son...I am so proud of you!

Taking Stock

There is still so much to do
Yet nothing more can be done
The chickens have been fed
I'm so proud of my son
The chickens were crated
In the back of our truck
I hugged him goodbye and
Wished him good luck
The weigh in is early
The show is at one
No matter the place
My boy has won
He always worked hard
In the heat and the cold
He raised them from chicks
Only to be sold
I can write all about it
I can snap pictures with glee
But my husband is the one
Who taught responsibility
Together they labored
To prepare for this show
A boy and his dad
A memory did grow

Getting to the ROOt of the Issue

Yes, that's my darling dog, Roo, sitting in the potted plant...looking up at me...pleading for me to take her with me. Everytime I am getting ready to leave the house she will jump into any item that either looks like it may be going with me or is closest to the door. Dogs just know when their master is getting ready to leave. Roo starts frantically following me from room to room once she sees me putting on my shoes. Her tiny toenails clacking on the floor; her doe eyes looking upward...sometimes even watering (break my heart). Thank God for our loving pets. They are the only ones we can always count on to make us feel good...no matter what. Right now, as I type this after an hour long solitaire session (can't sleep) Snickers is sleeping at my feet and I can hear Roo's bell/tags jingling every so often as she shifts her position in my son's bed down below. These are the things that make me smile.

Something's a Little Fishy

Don't you just hate it when you know what you want...when what you want is right there in front of your eyes...but you just can't quite reach it/have it/get it? Isn't it frustrating when the only thing separating you from reaching your goal is...you? So often what we seek is not only right in front of our eyes but within reach--if only we adjust our approach; our point of view.

There have been several times when the answer was a rather simple one but I had gone about finding it the hard way; kind of like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Although I am not fortunate enough to own a pair of ruby slippers, I do have access to something even more powerful-prayer. As my thoughts turn toward the new year ahead of me I can't help but to think of things such as my 20th high school reunion, my family, my parents, my dilapidated life. Will I be able to remain positive and focused? Will I be able to muster enough patience to make it through a single day? Will I find myself at the end of '09 thinking and doing the exact same things I've been thinking and doing my whole life? Will I be a good parent? Will my kids make smart decisions and wise choices? Obviously I can't spend the next 364 days worrying about all of these things...this is where prayer comes in to play. I don't want to come across as being flippant, but I have found a way to let go of all of that which makes me feel queasy...all that hinders me and weighs me down...I pray. God is so amazing that He would do this for me...he takes it all so I don't have to succumb to fear or worry. The hard part is for me to remember to talk to Him about what's on my mind on a daily basis. But, whenever I do, He lifts the burdens away and I am able to sleep at night.

Like my cat, Snickers, I am growing tired of chasing after the things that I want in life only to find out I had seen them in a refracted light...everything was not quite as it seemed. Perhaps the things that I have been longing for most have been right in front of me the whole time...maybe it is time to adjust my approach; my point of view...and pray.

Not All It's Cracked Up to Be

In less than 24 hours I have had my fill of chickens and

everything that comes out of them. With my son away hunting, the task of taking care of his stockshow chickens along with his "regular" chickens fell to moi. I don't know how I always get so lucky but I do. My son loves these chickens and works so dang hard each and every day making sure that they are provided for. He cleans their coop, their feed trays, and their water stations. He makes certain that the heat lamps are on in the event of a freeze and the fans are blowing when it gets too hot. Before he left he made sure that I knew what to do and what not to do...and when to do it.

Last night, after my daughter and I got home from a full day of shopping, the sky was starting to darken and the temperatures were dropping. I had a friend due to arrive in less than three minutes and my sister-in-law was just taking a pizza out of the oven. But, before I could dole out hugs and start to dine, I had to do the chicken dance. I went over to the "regular" coop, collected some "clean" eggs, (which means they do not have as much chicken poop on them as the ones due to hatch), scooped and poured some fresh feed, and refilled the water jug. Next it was off to the 'show' coop. This one was a little trickier. First I had to feed and water the culled chickens. Then I had to do the same with the show chickens. There is a lot of poop, water, mud, and climbing involved. Once that chore was completed I went into the kitchen and started putting some groceries away. I had bought a still-warm rotisserie chicken and quickly discovered that its juices were leaking all over my counter...greasy juices...the kind that don't really wipe up the first four times you try. These slimy liquids made their way to the kitchen floor as well...gave it a nice shine though so I went ahead and smeared it as far as it would go with the dish towel. When I tried to squeeze the chicken into the fridge I heard a sound I immediately recognized as a cracked egg. There, in the back, was the cracked remnants of a raw egg...bright yellow yolk slipping its way down the backside of the fridge, pooling on top of the glass shelves, and collecting in between the glass along the edges. After a few quiet moments to myself it was determined that since the egg was not rotten and since the temp in the fridge would remain cold the clean up could wait until my son got home.You see, he had picked up the habit of setting the eggs in the refridgerator instead of in an actual egg carton.

We went ahead with our girls' night plans and after an evening of homemade pizza, a movie that brought us to tears and wrapped us in laughter, and bowls of Blue Bell Coffee Ice Cream, caramel syrup, brownies, and whipped cream, we called it a night...a good night.

The next morning, when I went outside to repeat all of the above mentioned chicken checkin' duties, I was met with the drone of either flies or bees. The hum met me way before I was anywhere near the coop. I had visions of a massacre that had occurred while I slept the night away...Please God...NO...not on MY watch!!! Fortunately it was not flies hovering over chicken carcasses but, unfortunately, it was well over a hundred bees swarming inside the coop. There were bees in every feed tray, inside the water buckets, and completely covering the floor. All of the chickens were huddled in every corner foregoing food for safety. I was amazed that I did not get stung as I did my chores. That evening, my daughter and I were suppose to go into San Antonio to have dinner with my best friend and while were there I was going to return the infamous "polka dot" comforter. But I did not want to leave the chickens to get stung to death a mere week before the stockshow. I knew that I probably needed to build a fire and smoke out the bees but I wasn't exactly sure of the best way to do this. I could not get a hold of my husband or my son as their cell phones were not getting any kind of reception whatsoever down where they were hunting. Just before we left I was able to get a hold of my brother-in-law who immediately handed the phone to my son. He calmly reassured me that everything would be okay and that he would take care of it all in the morning when he returned. Phew!

Off we went to S.A., but not before stopping first at the gas station as my dash read "Empty!!"--go figure. Once we got to the store, my daughter and I lugged in both bed-in-a bags (I had bought one for her too--but it wasn't going to work either). While we were waiting in line I started digging in my little purse for the receipt that I had diligently saved. Prior to our trip into town I had decided to change purses (Big No-No). Even though I love little purses I am by nature a big bag lady (pun intended). I remember staring at, transferring, folding, and storing the receipt before leaving the house. Now that we are in line the damn paper is nowhere in sight. I leave my daughter in line and run out into the parking lot and begin to rummage through my trunk-hoping it may be in the larger bag I had brought along to keep all of the stuff that wouldn't fit into my smaller bag (I have issues). No receipt. As I jog back up to the store my mind starts reeling with images of us trying desperately to prove to the police that the two huge bed-in-a-bags are really ours-paid for and all. I grab my daughter and tell her to quickly follow me---do not ask questions just walk fast. We briskly passed between the two metal detector panels at the storefront without so much as looking up and into the eye of the security camera. With no electronic alarms sounding and no strong security guard's hand upon our shoulders we ran straight to our car, tossed the bags into the trunk and drove off to Salsalito's.

We sat through a quiet meal as everyone was exhausted but glad to see each other and, quite honestly, relieved to be able to accomplish the goal of getting together at least once over the holidays!

Late that night, once back at home, I was relieved that the bees had retired for the night and all of the chickens were still alive---and still eating! And although I still can't find that freaking reciept, this tired Mama is glad to be home...still alive...and still eating!

Horsing Around

Thanks to an invite from a friend my kids and I were able to enjoy being outdoors atop Raider-a beautiful thoroughbred. Just being able to sit in the saddle listening to the give of the leather beneath you makes one believe she is capable. Knowing that you have got to love and respect an animal enough to surrender to it while at the same time trying to convince it that you are in charge can be quite humbling. The power beneath you combined with the power within you makes for both an exhilerating and contented day. Being able to watch your children-so small and fragile-straddle such a large animal and trot off into the sunset stirred nothing but pleasant feelings inside of me. I did not have any feelings of fear as I watched them learn to assert themselves. I did not feel dread when the pace quickened. Both my son and daughter have a deep love and respect for animals and I am grateful for the opportunity that they had today thanks to the invite of a friend.

I Am A Dirty Girl

Since I had to leave work early today (because my daughter got sick at school) and since tonight Jmy son has his weekly Confirmation classes from 6:00-8:00, the task of tending to the 4-H show chickens fell to me. Nevermind the fact that the last solid meal that I ate was on Saturday evening (that's 4 days ago for those counting) and I've gulped down over 130 oz of Gatorade...it doesn't matter that I feel weak and puny...it's no excuse that I had to pull over on the side of the road on the way home to help my daughter barf into a plastic grocery bag...a farm never sleeps. So, after I got my daughter tucked into her bed, and after I got the car unloaded and the toxic bag tossed well over a cliff-I set out to help my son out.

I had received explicit instructions via cell phone and I vowed to follow them to the best of my abilities. Before I walked down to the barn to gather the eggs and refresh the water in the regular chicken coop I first changed into my black velour robe that my mother had given me as a gift one year. It is one of my favorite things to put on after I take everything off. I stepped into my comfy pink Crocs and went to work. Since it was misting and foggy outside it immediately became apparent that I would not be wearing my comfy shoes back inside the house...not after mushing down upon fresh coop poop.

Next stop: the show chicken coop. Here is where it got dirty. I kept having to maneuver my way over a four foot piece of tin that makes up one of the walls keeping the chicks contained. Since I was wearing a robe this was starting to become a challenge. After I stepped on the end of my black robe with a gooey shoe I gave in and simply started wiping my mucky hands all over me. That's when I noticed that one of the chicks had died and was being trampled on repeatedly as the others made their way to one of the feeders. So here I am, feeling barfy as it is, gathering up a dead chick inside a plastic grocery bag and walking it out to the dried up caliche pit/pond where a burn pile is forming....in my velour robe and my pink Crocs. I kept looking around for the hidden camera but still have yet to find it.

After emptying all of the feeders and rinsing out each water feeder I refilled them all according to my directions. I stomped off toward the house, kicked off the Crocs, stripped down to my necklace, took a hot shower, and disenfected the kids' bathroom.

Country Christmases---More Fun Than A Barrel of Santas

When I walked outside at 6:15 (way too early by Saturday standards) in my fuzzy pjs, hat, scarf, socks, Crocs, fingerless gloves, and winter coat, I was surprisingly “warm” (with the exception of my fingers). The air was crisp and clear—no icy breeze thank heavens. I managed to repeat last night’s poop-scrape and protein-feed chicken routine in remarkably record time. But when it came time for me to change out the two water feeders I was forced to acknowledge that the water in the hose had frozen. I immediately rationalized that although the remaining water was murky and low…it was better than no water at all. Here’s hoping the 40 chicks don’t drain the two feeders before I return home. Just what every mother fears…the death/s of her children’s beloved pet/s while on her watch (been there done that one already).

I only have half an hour left before I must wash off yesterday's makeup and reapply in an effort to appear halfway human before dashing off to my nephew's birthday party. I'll meet up with my parents and my kids (who spent the night with them) and then we'll all drive out to my sister's house. After this party I have to take my son to another party from 4:30-8:00 tonight. This will have us getting back home a little before 9:00...just in time to strut around in the chicken coops.

Dear Santa,

Please bring me some muck boots; my high heels keep sinking in the dirt. I'd also like a good scraper since my kitchen knives all have caked poop on them.

Love,

Me