Goodbye 2010

2010 has been quite a year. In many ways, it has been one of the most difficult years of my life--bittersweet, if you will. My husband lost his job and had major knee surgery. After twelve years of being a stay-at-home mom, I became the temporary breadwinner. My grandfather died. My oldest son's baseball team won the state championship. The same son graduated from high school. A dear friend lost her only son in a tragic car accident. We added a new family member. My oldest son went away to college. My dad bought a Harley. We lived, we loved, we laughed, and we cried. So much joy, so much heartache, so many tears... Goodbye 2010, and thanks for the memories.

Words

As 2010 draws to a close, I find myself thinking about words, specifically the power of words and how they shape us.  I have chosen several words to help guide my thinking in 2011.  Here are my words so far:

• beauty
• simplicity
• authenticity
• joy

What are your words, and how do they impact your life?

Poppa

Today is Grandpa Tommy's birthday. He would have been 85 years old. 

I miss him...

Thanksgiving 2010

This year, we spent Thanksgiving at Nanna's.  We have much to be thankful for, and a good time was had by all, but it just wasn't the same without Poppa...

Manna?

This post was originally written a little over a year ago, but in light of the recent snowfall, I thought it was worth a rerun.  I now have thirteen chickens, and some of the original members are no longer with us (RIP Garfunkel and Little Red), but those that remain still fear "manna" as much as ever!

My chickens do NOT like snow, which is understandable, because they are young chickens, and this is their first experience with the stuff. Their reaction to their first snow was quite similar to that of the children of Israel to their first manna--"What IS it?!"

"When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, "What is it?" For they did not know what it was. The people of Israel called the bread manna." (Exodus 16:14-15, 31)

When I let the flock out last Friday morning, there was no snow, and they ventured out into the "great yard" to forage as usual. Eventually they congregated under the outdoor sink to preen, and the first flakes began to fall... "What is it?" they wondered, yet no one was willing to ruffle a feather to investigate. It wasn't long before the flakes began to collect on the ground... "What IS it?!" they questioned, as bored curiosity gave way to concern, and the chickens stopped their preening. In no time at all, the flakes began falling in earnest, and it was really snowing... "WHAT IS IT?!" they panicked, as curiosity gave way to mortal fear, and the chickens began to huddle together under the outdoor sink as a matter of survival.

Now mind you that just across the "great yard" was a heated chicken house, not a coop, a house complete with insulation, lights, the aforementioned heat, a linoleum floor, and a window--a 3 x 5 PICTURE WINDOW! A veritable Shangri La for chickens was beckoning them into its welcome embrace, but would they go? NO! It was far too dangerous to venture out into the "manna".

During this time, I was preparing to meet a friend for lunch about an hour's drive away, and I'm pretty sure my husband felt the same about me driving in the snow as the chickens did about venturing out into the "manna"..."WHAT?! Are you crazy? It's too dangerous! Don't you remember your accident? Don't you realize that you're a terrible driver?!" But, like the chickens, he kept his thoughts to himself and suffered in silence. He knew that my mind was made up, and there was no reasoning with me.

As the time approached for me to leave, I realized that I had a problem--the chickens were still under the outdoor sink. I asked my husband if he would help the chickens to their house, and he looked a bit startled--"ME?! Help the chickens? They don't like me!" "Fine," I said, "I'll deal with the chickens!" Now you must understand that I am perpetually late. I am the queen of "just one more thing", but the "one more thing" always makes me late. I had so looked forward to being on time for once, and I didn't have time for one more thing. I cast a forlorn look at the traitorous clock and stalked off to prepare "treats" with which to lure the flock to the comfort and safety of their home.

While preparing the treats, I gave myself a little pep talk, "Seriously, Kelley, how long will this take? Just present the treats, and they'll follow you like you're the pied piper as always." Out I went, through the snow (I love the snow--so beautiful, so fluffy, so white!) to the chicken house, shaking the treat bucket as I went. As expected, the treats caused quite a stir among the flock, but wait...the MANNA! "How can we get to the treats without crossing the great divide?!" the chickens wondered.  "And the food lady...doesn't she realize the danger?! She's either crazy...or incredibly brave!" (Incidentally, both will prove to be true in a few moments.)

It didn't take me long to realize that fear had immobilized my flock, and that there was no treat in the world for which they would cross through "manna". Time was running out, and so were my options. Now remember, I was going to meet a friend. Why? To take her out to lunch for her birthday. How was I dressed? Accordingly--no Carharts, no chore boots, no gloves. I was wearing "going out" clothes--"girl" clothes--not a strange, indestructible conglomeration of my oldest son's and husband's clothes. With only one option available to me, it became apparent that I was going to have to change. (Did I mention that I am perpetually late?)

Into the house I went to change into a chore coat and grab some gloves. (I can do all things through Christ...with gloves!) By now, if you're an astute reader, you have probably figured out what I had purposed in my mind to do. For those of you who are a bit slower, I was going to CATCH AND CARRY EACH CHICKEN TO SAFETY, fortunately, I only have six chickens. Growing up on our family farm, I was TERRIFIED of chickens, but necessity is the mother of many things, and I had gloves, so I ventured back out into the snow to do what had to be done...

The chickens seemed much less impressed with me my second time out--no treats. Good, perhaps complacency would work in my favor. I had only caught the chickens one other time in my brief chicken stewardship history. It was a bit traumatic for all involved, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I was running out of time. I decided to start with the pullets, the youngest and smallest of the flock. In spite of their aversion to being caught, in their minds the snow seemed worse, and their attempts to evade me without leaving the safety of their sink shelter were amusingly futile.

I caught Sage first. She squawked once and then settled in for "transport" across the "great yard" to the chicken house. She seemed genuinely happy to be home and was the first to enjoy the treats. Next was Parsley. Same story--very little resistance, content to be carried, happy to be home. Then I tried to catch Little Red...a swing and a miss! Strike one. Hmmm...now what? Change target...Garfunkel? Hmmm...I don't know? He's the rooster, he's BIG, and I'm afraid, but... Okay, I can do it...I think... Home run! I got the big guy, and it wasn't too bad! He was heavy, but docile, and happy to be home. Hey, this is going pretty, well! Who's next? Big Mama, yeah...that's the one...maybe...  

Of all the chickens in the flock, Big Mama is the most skittish and is the only one who won't come to me and won't eat out my my hand. This makes me very sad, because she is my favorite. Of all the chickens I have ever caught (the one time before this that I caught chickens) she was the one who "doth protest too loudly"--screeching and flapping and generally behaving as if she had just been decapitated. Of all the of the chickens that I didn't want to alienate, she was the one, but... Okay, just remember, grab the bird and get both wings...BOTH wings, and hold her close...you can do it, you can, I know you can... And I did! I did it! I was able to catch and carry Big Mama with very little incident. Did she like it? No. Would she hold a grudge this time? I don't think so. Once safely home, she just ruffled her feathers and helped herself to a treat. Oh happy day! Big Mama doesn't hate me! 

At this point I felt like I could do anything and threw caution to the wind. I caught Ugly Betty, and missed a wing. There was much flapping (from her) and scolding (from me) and squawking (from her) but I didn't care. Ugly Betty is pretty resilient and as dumb as a post. She'd get over it. Now there was only one bird left, the pullet, Little Red. Yeah, I missed her the first time, but nothing could stop me now, or so I thought...

"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall." (Proverbs 16:18)

I am pleased to report that there was no destruction, but there was very nearly a fall. Little Red's fear of being caught trumped her fear of "manna", and I actually had to chase her around the "great yard". It is one thing to chase a chicken in its run, but in the great yard, it's a bit more of a task, especially when it is covered with snow and one is not wearing snow boots, but some fashionable little boots with NO tread! Persistence paid off, however, and I finally caught Little Red, but I missed BOTH wings, and there was much flapping (from her) and screeching (from me) and squawking (from her)!

Was I late heading out the door? Yes. Did I miss my lunch date with my friend? No. Would I do it all again? In a heartbeat....anything to make sure that my fine, feathered friends are safe and warm!

Photo of the week...

This is Samson, our goat buckling, and he's just too cute not to share!

Red Bull?!

Today during art we discussed Marc Chagall's painting "The Birthday".  During our discussion, we talked about the fact that the man appears to be floating, and I asked the kids what they thought the man might be feeling.  Sam immediately piped up with, "I think he must have just drank a Red Bull, because every time I drink a Red Bull, I feel like I can fly!"  Uhmmm...yeah... Back to the drawing board!

A New Leaf

It is a well established fact that I am NOT a morning person. Yes, I have six children (eight if you count our "exchange student" and the little boy I babysit). Yes, I homeschool four of my children (while babysitting the aforementioned little boy).  Yes, I have a home-based business, and yes, I have livestock. Unfortunately none of these things have miraculously turned me into a morning person. Rather than adapting to these responsibilities, I have adapt these responsibilities to me.

When my children were young, I introduced them to the joy of snuggling, and as they got older, I taught them how to feed themselves, and admonished them to let sleeping mommies lie! On a typical day, by the time I get up (notice that I did not say wake up, I am often awake and able to shout orders from the command center of my bedroom), my children have fed themselves, clothed themselves, done their chores, and started their schoolwork.

As for my business, there is nothing that can be accomplished before 10:00 am that cannot be accomplished after 10:00 pm. For some reason, my brain goes into overdrive at 10:00 pm. After 10:00 pm, I can solve all of the worlds problems, unfortunately, by the time I accomplish that feat (usually around 1:00 am), my world is asleep, and there is no one to bask in the glory of my omnipotence! (It's lonely after midnight...sigh...)

The only thing that has ever come close to changing my circadian rhythm is my flock of chickens. My what? You heard me, my chickens. (Bad things happen to good chickens when left unattended in the morning!)  I have been known to get up at sunrise just to make sure that everyone is alive and well, but once I train my chickens to behave (or rather once the new birds adapt to the established pecking order), they no longer NEED me until 9 or 10 am (although if I see a kid passing by the doorway of the "command center" before then, I will often holler, "Go let the chickens out!" just to be safe).

As for my new leaf, it really comes down to homeschooling and babysitting.  The little guy whom I babysit arrives at 8:15 each day, which is much better than his summer arrival time, which was the unholy hour of 7:30 am!  Every morning, I would stumble to the front door to let him (and his three sisters!) in, mumble some incoherent drivel to their mother, close the door, and wonder if she was concerned about leaving her children in the care of someone who was barely lucid.  Fortunately, one (or both) of my "early-riser" children would swoop in all bright-eyed and busy-tailed and deliver me from the horror of becoming fully awake at that most unspeakable hour.  (Bless you, Asres and Olivia, you were my salvation!) 

You can only imagine how ecstatic I was when the "other" mother's hours changed, and I did not have to drag myself out of bed until 8:15 am...JOY!  I was so thrilled with this new arrangement, that I actually started setting my alarm for 8:00 am just to pre-wake myself and enjoy that warm, cozy almost awake feeling...you know the one I'm talkin' about...  It's so much better than that just-got-thrown-into-a-freezing-cold-lake-lurching-to-wakefulness experience!  (For the record, when I wake up too early or too quickly, I actually feel physically ill, like I'm going to lose the breakfast that I have not yet eaten...it's kind of a Ghost of Breakfast Past, Present, and Future thing...)  I digress...

Don King

The other major factor contributing to this new leaf "thing" is homeschooling.  I have been a homeschooling momma off and on for more than twelve years, and up until now, I have been able to keep education from interfering with my sleep, but as my kids get older, their subjects are becoming more rigorous and are requiring more of their time...and mine.  And lately, I find that I am spending much of my morning running around like a chicken with my head cut off, and I'm not liking it.  I am frustrated and frazzled.  I am unshowered, unkempt, and quite frankly, I look like Don King!  Enough is enough!

So what, pray tell, is this "new leaf"?  I will be attempting to return to that most unholy hour of 7:30 am...by choice!  (*cue audible gasp*)  No really, don't scoff...I'm serious!  I'm so serious that I have set my alarm for 7:30 for the past two days.  Day one was an epic fail, and I don't really want to talk about it...  But today, today was much better!  I got up at 7:45, and I kind of liked it!  All the livestock was fed by 8:00, and I was able to savor fifteen minutes of silence during which I read my Bible.  I used to think that nothing good could happen before 10:00 am, and I was wrong.  Perhaps I have been wrong about 7:30, too...  Wish me luck...I'm bound to backslide, but today is the first day of the rest of my life...CARPE DIEM!

PS:  I know that it may seem ironic (absurd?) that someone like me would call their blog "Carpe Diem!", as I tend to "sneak up" on the day rather than "seize" it, but I am a work in progress, and "carpe diem" is what I aspire to!

Magnifying...

This semester, the kids and I are studying astronomy, and we're currently working through a chapter on the sun, so yesterday, in the interest of science, we pulled out the ol' magnifying glasses to see what the sun can do.  What started with leaves progressed to cardboard, worms, and army men (I'll spare you the worms and army men...), and I must say that in all my homeschooling years, I have never seen my students so quiet and focused!  Who would have thunk it?!  From now on, when I want peace and quite, I'm just going to pull out the magnifying glasses!

Easy Test Maker

I found the coolest site today, and I just have to share... I finally received our Apologia "Exploring Creation With Astronomy" textbook, but this particular curriculum is really into notebooks, and...well...we're not, which is why I didn't bother to order any. (Actually, Olivia might really dig notebooking, but I'm a no-fluff worksheet gal, so she'll have to get creative on her own time. Don't cry for her, she's used to it!) Anyway, I decided that  in lieu of notebooking, I would like to create worksheets to measure my students' comprehension and reinforce the material covered, but I was too lazy to make them from scratch, and I figured if I can make a cake from a box, why not a worksheet, so I queried my friend Google and discovered the FREE Easy Test Maker...SCORE! (How's that for a run-on sentence?!)

The ETM allows you to create tests, worksheets, and quizzes using multiple choice, fill in the blank, matching, short answer, and true/false formats. The ETM also allows you to save the files and download them as Word documents. It will even generate an answer key, and did I mention it's free?! (I haven't been this much in love since I met my husband!) I know that this will probably not appeal to you creative types, but for the "git-er-done" mom like me, this is an answered prayer!

Glorious Day!

Yesterday, a good friend and I took our kids kayaking, and my, oh my, what a glorious day it was!  We launched from Northrup Point and paddled until we found a beach where someone had constructed the framework for a teepee.  On that beach, the kids also found natural clay deposits, and Olivia created a little pinch pot.  The weather was gorgeous, the water was like glass, and in spite of the fact that it was October 1, it was one of the most enjoyable days of my summer!

Dry Falls & Lake Lenore Caves

We were supposed to go camping Labor Day weekend, but it didn't work out, so my sister suggested the we have a "staycation" (a vacation where you just stay home) instead.  On Saturday, we barbecued with family, and on Sunday, we barbecued with friends, but the highlight of our "staycation" was taking our four youngest to Dry Falls and the Lake Lenore Caves on Labor Day.  Although we were ill prepared for our impromtu hike--Hannah, Olivia, and I were in flip-flops, and Olivia was in a skirt--we had a fabulous time learning about cataclysmic floods, exploring caves, and searching for arrowheads!

The Story of Dry Falls (And no, Sam does not have "special needs"!)

Hannah, Olivia, Sam, and Asres overlooking Dry Falls

Information about the Lake Lenore Caves

Going up...

Made it!

Going in...

Inside one of the caves

View of the "neighborhood"

Looking for arrowheads

Possible arrowheads?

You be the judge!

More Kids!

Ha!  I know what you're thinking, so let me set the record straight.  No, I am NOT pregnant!  No, we are not adopting again.  And no, we are not accepting any more "exchange students" at this time.  What are we doing?  We're kidding...literally!  On August 31, two of our goats had kids!

Durango and her baby girls

Corona and her little man

Welcome to the Morris Petting Zoo!

 

Is there anything cuter than a baby goat...?

 

Well...maybe a full-grown man cuddling a baby goat!

Say 'ello to my li'l friend!

New Kid on the Block!

This is Ansen.  He's a friend of my sons Kody and Jesse, and he is going to be staying with us for the school year.  Ansen is kind of like an exchange student, only better, because we already know him, we already love him, and he speaks English!  Welcome to the family Ansen!

Jesse & Ansen

New Additions

Meet Dandy and Lion...or Daisy and Duke...or Samson and Delilah...we don't really have names for them yet, but we're open to suggestions.  What are they, you ask?  They're baby bearded dragons--a high-red Italian leather-back and a Sandfire x citrus, to be exact.  Why do we have them, you ask?  Because Sam loves them...and we love Sam.  Happy 12th birthday, Sam!

Little Mama

On August 21, Alice hatched three sweet little chicks.  Way to go, Alice!

Curriculum

One of the most common questions I get as a homeschooling mom (right after the look of shock and awe) is, "What curriculum do you use?"  The answer is, "A little bit of everything!"

For many years, we have not been able to afford much in the way of curriculum, so I have looked to borrow the bulk of our homeschooling resources and purchased only the "consumables".  At this point I must admit to being a "bare-bones homeschooler", concerning myself only with the three Rs: READING, 'RITING, and 'RITHMETIC, and for several years, I used A Beka for all three.  Then I got bored and switched to ACE (Accelerated Christian Education)...but we didn't last long (Sorry Annette!), so it was back to A Beka for reading and 'riting and forward to Math-U-See for 'rithmetic.  But then, two years ago, I was feeling a bit saucy, and I decided to try WAVA (Washington Virtual Academy) for language arts.  It was a fairly positive experience, but I didn't like being as dependent on the computer as I became, and I found myself gravitating back to A Beka.  Unfortunately, "familiarity breeds contempt", and I'm bored again, so now it's time for something new.  Enter Columbia Virtual Academy...

Columbia Virtual Academy (CVA) is similar to WAVA in that it is a public school program implemented in the alternative learning environment (ALE) of your home.  It differs from WAVA in that WAVA uses the K-12 curriculum, whereas CVA allocates funds with which to purchase the curricula of your choice.  For the homeschooler with limited funding like me, this is a GODSEND!  Are there some hoops to jump through?  A few.  Are there any restrictions on curriculum choice?  Some.  Is it worth all the hassle?  We shall see...but while I'm figuring it out, you are welcome to take a look at what we're planning to do this year.  And for those of you who are concerned about my poor children and their "bare-bones" education, I am pleased to announce that we will be adding history, science, and art this year...WOOHOO!  God is good!  We'll see if CVA is as well... 

2010/2011 CURRICULUM

READING:  Veritas Press assorted classics and comprehension guides, A Beka Phonics* (Asres only... I can't quite get A Beka out of my system!)

'RITING: Language Lessons (Queen Homeschool Supplies),  Apples Daily Spelling Drills

'RITHMETIC:  Singapore Math

SCIENCE:   Apologia Astronomy* and Botany*, Private Eye loupes for nature study

HISTORY:   Story of the World Vol. 1 Ancient Times

ART:  Artistic Pursuits K-3 Book 1: Intro to Visual Arts (We're new to art, and art is not my "thing", so we're starting at the beginning!)

FOREIGN LANGUAGE:  Powerspeak Spanish 1 (Olivia only)

PHYSICAL EDUCATION:  Seasonal physical education via community based instruction (CBI) including gymnastics, ice skating, ice hockey, football, soccer, baseball, and softball (CVA pays for community based instruction...YAY!)

FIELD TRIPS:  Seasonal musicals, plays, symphony, art and/or cultural exhibits, museum tours, and zoos, etc.  (CVA pays the entrance fees for pre-approved field trips...DOUBLE YAY!)

* Items marked with an asterisk must be purchased with personal funds.  CVA does not pay for faith-based materials.  (Remember those restrictions I mentioned?  This is one of them.)

Dylan, Hayley, and the "Terrible Turtle"

Dylan & Hayley

As I mentioned before, the day wasn't over yet.  Not long after the "Great Bathroom Rescue", I heard screams of horror coming from Sam's room, but before I can explain the screams, I must go back to the beginning of the day.  

Early this morning, (those of you who know me well understand that this could be anywhere from 9am to 11am) Duane (favorite uncle) arrived with a bucket of tadpoles that he had saved from a rapidly drying mud hole.  Three of my children were away at summer camp, another was at grandma's, and the remaining two were still sleeping, but my "extras" and I lovingly transferred the new family members from their big, yellow bucket to their "Sterlite" tote in the shade, and all was well with the world...until we heard the screams...

The Terrible Turtle

"Kelley, Kelley!  The turtle is eating the tadpoles!"   What?  "THE TURTLE IS EATING THE TADPOLES!"  Huh?!  The turtle is in the house, and the tadpoles are outside.  How is this possible?  I decided that I had better investigate, and much to my horror, I discovered that the turtle was indeed eating a tadpole!  At which point, I started screaming...  "Who put the tadpoles in with the turtle?!"  No response.  "SAM...?!"  "It wasn't me!" came his reply.  Then I noticed a funny look on my husband's face (you know, the dude who hasn't quite given up flexing).  He appeared to be trying to hide behind his laptop screen.  I turned my death glare on him and shrieked, "DID YOU PUT THE TADPOLES IN WITH THE TURTLE?"  He blanched.  "FIX IT!"  I screamed.

With the speed of a man who has recently had reconstructive knee surgery, my dear husband hoofed it into Sam's bedroom.  My extras, Hayley, the reptile lover (who, when I referred to the tadpoles as reptiles this morning, corrected me by saying that they were amphibians) and the youngest, Dylan, were extremely distraught and pleading with us to do something.  What they wanted was for us to stop the carnage.  What they got was my husband's best Darwin impression (survival of the fittest and all) and a helpless shrug, because the remaining tadpoles had taken cover under a rock and could not be reached by the rescue net.

The Tadpole With Legs

My husband retreated to his laptop.  I remained with the children and tried to explain food chains and survival of the fittest, etc., while Hayley sobbed about the "terrible turtle".  Then I saw him...the tadpole with legs.  How could he?!  I thought.  The tadpole with legs?!  What was my husband thinking?!  Incredulity gave way to resolve.  The tadpoles MUST be saved!  Out came the rescue net, and I am pleased to report that, after a brief "water rodeo", all of the tadpoles were saved...well...all except that one...

Our hero...?

Dakota aka the "Sexy Beast"

I have six children ranging in age from eight to eighteen.  In addition to my six children, I babysit four others ages three to nine.  Some might say that I'm clinically insane, but kids are fairly easy for me...feed them, stop their bleeding, read a story, feed them, wipe what needs wiping, break up an argument,  feed them, shell out some money, negotiate curfews, feed  them. Easy...*yawn*.  Today, however, has been a bit more exciting than most.  We'll start with the bathroom...

We have a bathroom.  Notice I wrote a bathroom.  This was no mistake.  I know that it may be difficult to believe that a family of eight, living in America, would have only one bathroom, but we do, and that bathroom does not have a proper lock.  (I heard that gasp!)  As untenable as the situation may seem, so far it has worked for us.  The fact that the male to female ratio in our family is 5:3 helps, because we also have a backyard and a park with a public restroom, if one must do more than the backyard will allow.  Enter the "extras", the kids that I babysit.  I honestly don't know how many bathrooms they have in their house, but their male to female ratio is 2:4, and I'm pretty sure that their bathroom has a proper lock.  

Jaelyn

Now let me introduce Jaelyn, the youngest female of the kids I babysit.  Jaelyn just turned six, and she's as feisty as they come!  Since the day she entered our home, she has always been a bit uncomfortable with the lock situation and will declare quite loudly that she is going to the bathroom and order us not to let anyone in.  Apparently today there was no one to hear her declaration, so she did what any privacy seeking six year old would do...she used the little red stool (Why, oh, why is the little red stool even in there anymore?!) to reach up and lock the door herself!  But I thought you said you didn't have a lock on your bathroom door...  No, I said that we didn't have a "proper lock" on our bathroom door.  What we do have is a flip lock designed for child proofing and burglars!

Enter Dakota (aka Kody).  Kody is our strapping eighteen-year-old son, affectionately referred to as the "Sexy Beast".  Why?  Well...because he is.  He spends as much time as possible shirtless and flexing, and girls dig him.  I'm sure he will outgrow the shirtlessness someday (my husband did), but probably not the flexing (my husband didn't).  When Kody heard the cries from the bathroom, he did what any eighteen year old would do in such an emergency...he busted in the door.  Our hero!  Fortunately for all of us, the door remained on its hinges and the only real casualty was the lock, which actually fared pretty well.  It's only a little bent.  (So much for "bathroom security"!)

After everyone had finished congratulating Kody for his heroics, he noticed that I was giving him the "stink eye".  He looked at me incredulously and said, "Well, Mom, what would you have done?"  To which I replied, "If she can lock it, she can unlock it.  I would have talked her through the process!"  Brawn vs. brain...go figure! Now, what to do with that little red stool...?

PS:  The day's not over yet...stay tuned for more "Adventures in Babysitting"!

Alice is on the nest...

Alice is on the nest.  Well, actually, Alice has been on the nest for weeks, but finally, rather than shooing her off, I decided to let her keep some eggs.  Alice, our tiniest hen, is an Ameraucana that occupies the lowest rung on the flock's social ladder.  Except for color, Alice is the antithesis of Big Mama, our huge Buff Orpington that went broody in January.  Alice is shy, timid, and frail.  Big Mama is bold, buxom, and brassy.  I had no doubt that Big Mama would be able to handle the rigors of brooding, bring her clutch to hatch, and guard her chicks with her life, but Alice...Alice is an entirely different bird.  When Big Mama went broody, I was afraid of her, not for her.  But Alice, poor, sweet Alice, is just a wisp of a thing.

Although Alice has been struggling to keep eggs for weeks, Saturday was different.  When I went out to collect eggs on Saturday, Alice had puffed up bigger than I thought possible (which still wasn't very big at all), and she had a fierce look in her eye.   The broom and I tried to reason with her, but finally, I took pity on her and decided to let her keep the three eggs she had gathered.  In fact, I rewarded her tenacity with four more.  Alice and her clutch of seven have since been moved to the "broody box" in the vestibule.  Will Alice be able to go the distance in this heat?  Only time will tell.  My prayer is that she doesn't end up paying the ultimate price in her bid for motherhood.

Heaven "Scent"

I have always wanted to grow sweet peas.  I have been told time and again how heavenly their scent is.  I have tried to grow sweet peas for several years, and each time I've tried, I've failed.  I don't like to fail.  I can grow anything, so why not a silly sweet pea?  And the one year I came close to success?  The dogs dug them up!

After the dog incident, I was ready to throw in the towel.  "Who cares how glorious their fragrance is," I thought to myself. "They have ugly foliage!"  But this spring, I decided to try one last time.  This year was going to be the year...sink or swim, baby, do or die!  I decided to go for broke and planted every sweet pea seed I had ever purchased.  Why not?  It was now...or never again!  And guess what?  I got sweet peas!  And guess what else?  Their fragrance was worth the wait...ABSOLUTELY DIVINE!

Carpe diem?

Carpe diem?  Why carpe diem?  What does it mean?

"Carpe diem" is a phrase from a Latin poem by Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus). The phrase is part of the longer "carpe diem quam minimum credula postero"  from Odes 1.11, popularly translated "seize the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow".  Carpe literally means to "pick, pluck, pluck off, or gather", but Horace uses the word to mean "enjoy or make use of".

"Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi

finem di dederint, Leuconoë, nec Babylonios

tentaris numeros. Ut melius, quidquid erit, pati!

Seu plures hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,

quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare

Tyrrhenum, sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi

spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida

aetas: carpe diem quam minimum credula postero."

"Don't ask (it's forbidden to know) what final fate the gods have

given to me and you, Leuconoe, and don't consult Babylonian

horoscopes. How much better it is to accept whatever shall be,

whether Jupiter has given many more winters or whether this is the

last one, which now breaks the force of the Tuscan sea against the

facing cliffs. Be wise, strain the wine, and trim distant hope within

short limits. While we're talking, grudging time will already

have fled: seize the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow."

Call me a fatalist, but even the the Bible agrees that time is fleeting and life is but a vapor:

"...What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." (James 4:14 NIV)

"As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more." (Psalm 103:15-16 NIV)

So carpe diem!  Seize the day--THIS DAY--enjoy it, make use of it, squeeze every last drop out of it, for this day is all you truly have!

Hen and Chicks

So much to report, so little time. My last blog entry was December 1, and a great deal has transpired since then. I am please to report that Alice and Margaret have been successfully integrated into the flock. There were a few ruffled feathers, as their introduction to the "family" created quite a disturbance in the pecking order, but all in all, the move from quarantine to coop was fairly trouble free. (Little Red saw their introduction to the flock as her opportunity for personal advancement and is no longer at the bottom of the heap. Sadly, Alice is, but we have a remarkably amicable flock, so no real harm was done.)

While Little Red was climbing the avian social ladder and Alice and Margaret were adapting to their new environs, Big Mama was contemplating motherhood. On January 11, I went out to collect eggs, and Big Mama was in the "Food Bank" (presumably to make a deposit), but when I went out later that evening, she was still in the Bank, and I collected no eggs that day. The next morning, I went out to collect eggs, and Big Mama was still in the Bank, but next to her was one egg. I reached in for the egg, and she GROWLED at me...really! I didn't know that chickens could growl, but growl she did! Later that night she was still in the Bank. I got a broom to "encourage" her out, but she absolutely refused to leave! This went on for several days; me going out to collect eggs and Big Mama continuing her "sit in" at the Bank.

After Big Mama's fifth day of residency, I decided it was time to see what was going on in there, but I was a bit intimidated. (She growled at me, remember?!) I had read about "broody" hens, and I suspected that I was dealing with one, so I called in back-up. First I phoned my brother, Dan, and he came in and built a nest box right away. Then I called my uncle, Duane. Someone would need to secure the hen, and someone would need to count and move the eggs. I was planning to count and move the eggs and let Duane take his chances with the hen!

Duane, ever brave, removed Big Mama from the Food Bank, and we discovered that over the course of five days, Big Mama had managed to tuck away twelve eggs--some her own and others pilfered from her flock mates. (As aggressive as she was toward me, she didn't seem to mind sharing "her" nest with the other hens. Little did they know that as soon as they laid their eggs and left, she would add them to her growing collection!)

Big Mama raised a terrible ruckus as I carefully removed the eggs and placed them in the newly built nest box. When it seemed that Big Mama could stand it no more, Duane placed her in the nest box atop her precious eggs only to have her race screaming and squawking back to the Food Bank! Big Mama had obviously lost her mind, so Duane (ever brave) captured her (again) and placed her in the new nest box (again), and we boarded it up so she couldn't get out! (Fortunately, Dan had drilled ventilation holes in the lid, so Big Mama was able to breathe!) The next morning, I removed the barricade and found that Big Mama had come to her senses and was sitting contentedly on her new nest.

On February 2 (my birthday!), my husband came in from the chicken house and said, "Something is going on with Big Mama." I went out the the chicken house and heard Big Mama warbling softly to herself. A couple hours later we were greeted by three fuzzy baby chicks peeking out from beneath her wings! On February 3, Big Mama hatched five more babies for a total of eight. (Not bad for a first hatch!) Big Mama as been an amazing mother, and it has been a delight to watch her love, nurture, and protect her babies! Speaking of protect, not only can Big Mama growl, but it you get between her and her brood, she'll give you a ROAR!