Go Play Outside

Moms, how many times have you hollered* those words to your kids? Your husband? It gets them out of your hair and, after all, the clean, fresh air is good for them.

I walked outside yesterday and figured out that maybe we've done it wrong all these years. Maybe WE are the ones who needed to go outside to take in that God-breathed air.

Maybe it would clear our head. To hear Him better.

I had lots of things on my mind. Lots of things that needed to be prayed over.

I stepped out on to the newly painted porch (thank you kids for birthday Lowe's gift cards) and glanced up at the ceiling fan (thank you kids for the Mother's Day Lowe's gift cards) and I smiled. Thank you God for giving me kids who understand how I love Lowe's gift cards!

Love my cute little frog watering can!



Our baby chick went from Bed Baby Nursery to the Toddler room - adjusting well.






Wooden ice cream freezers should make even the hard-hearted smile a little bit.






We brought Spencer (AKA Delilah) home from the church to snack on the weeds in our old chicken pen. The girls named her Spencer then realized he was a she so changed her name. Eli still calls her Spencer because he likes that name. I went out to make friends with her because I think she is missing her buddies at the arena.



She liked me and I think she wanted me to take my shoes off and stay awhile. She untied my right shoe, then went straight to the left. Like she knew exactly what to do. Smart goat.

When I went back into the house to start on "stuff", I felt so much better.

My mind had cleared, I felt like I could hear Him.

Thank you Father, for sending me to play outside for awhile. I needed it.

* Texan for screamed

Dinner Party

Last Thursday night our sweet dog Mollie, half Great White Pyrenees/half several other things, had a dinner party and invited a few of her closest friends. She served chicken.

They had such a good time that she decided to have another one last night. I went outside this morning as the last guest was leaving. Chickens were laying everywhere.

I grieved a little.

I remembered when they were just little chicks. So cute. When you raise them from pups, you get a little attached.

After our hound dog Pearl left to live in uptown Dallas, I thought I could let the chickens start getting out of their cute little house and free range a little. I couldn't wait to see their little faces the first time I opened that door and let them out. They were so excited.

I feel bad that I didn't take better care of them. Oh well, I'll get the chicken catalog and start dreaming about next spring's order. Only thing is that we won't get eggs until the fall.

So Marilyn, Kathryn, Audrey, Heddy, Bogey, Bacall, George, Martha, Greta, Sophia and Lana: thanks for the memories. You'll be missed.

Graduation Day

A couple of weeks back, I went out the back door to our makeshift chicken coop to change the water and feed the chickens. It seems like overnight the baby chicks had grown in to adolescent chicks. The baby chick poop had changed to adolescent chick poop. The smell was almost unbearable. It didn't blend well with the Creme Brulee' candle burning in the kitchen window. It was time for a move into the big boy and girl chicken house. Hannah, Rachel, and I grabbed up some chicks and headed out to the barn. Bogey and Bacall (the grownups already in the chicken yard) weren't too sure they like the new residents, so I stayed out there with them while the girls made several trips back and forth with their arms full of chicken. I was standing in somewhat of a daze watching the chickens running around finding things to eat off the ground. The horses were in the pen next to us and I thought to myself, "Is this my life? Really? Standing in a chicken yard and loving it?" I kind of time travelled back to the halls of Denver City High School, and don't recall one time ever thinking I would one day own a horse or come up with movie star names for chickens. But I do. And I really like it. Then reality hit again when I had to go back to the house and move the 6 foot tub we used for a nursery. The girls and I lifted it up on its side and they rolled it to the back of the yard behind the trampoline. I shoveled most of the stuff out of it and threw it over the fence. I forgot about it until last Saturday when we were cleaning up outside. I walked over with the hose to finish cleaning it out. It smelled awful, but as the water hit it and spilled out on the ground it was exactly the color I've been wanting to put on my living room walls!
A real pale shade of green. I believe that Lowes wouldn't appreciate me bringing a sample of that to put in their color match machine. I'll just have to find a color swatch like most other people do. Anyway, my back porch is finally back to normal. Smell and all.

Here are a few chicks that already have names. George and Martha Washington, and Phyllis Diller. Obvious, huh? It looks like George is sitting for his presidential portrait!

Fresh Eggs For Sale - in approximately 24 weeks

I got a call from the Post Office here in Chatfield Monday morning and I heard "Carol, your chickens just got here!" We live in downtown Chatfield, so Rachel and I ran to the van, drove down our drive, turned the corner and then another, to pull into the Post Office parking lot about 1 minute later. We heard those little furry balls of baby chick the minute we walked through the door. You can't help but smile when you hear 40 little chicks chirping at the top of their little bitty lungs. Life is sweet.

We have two large chickens, Bogey and Bacall. Bogey is a rooster and Bacall is a career hen, I guess, because she hasn't given me one egg. Not one. No maternal instincts whatsoever. So we decided to order more. I think we got a little carried away, but there were just so many to choose from. So now we have forty chickens outside our back door with two heat lamps to keep them warm and fencing around the tub to keep dogs out.

I guess I could blame Daddy on the chicken thing. When we were little we had an old record player that had belonged to my grandmother. The records were cylinder shape. You would slide the cylinder on this little thing, wind it up with the crank handle on the side, and lower the needle. Whenever Daddy would let us listen to it, he always played a song called "Chicken Reel". He'd play it, we three girls would dance. We loved that song. You could hear chickens singing in the chorus.

Jesus, could You please tell Daddy that I just got 40 chickens? I know he would get a kick out of that. Oh yeah, and could you tell him Happy Birthday? And that I really miss him? Tell him that I've never heard anyone laugh like he did but when Kyle laughs, I see him. Tell him Adam has his sense of humor and Kayla has his eyes. I even see him when I see little Eli's ears! Does he know about Eli? Could you make sure that he knows? Tell him he would love him so much. Probably call him "Clawhammer" like he did Kyle. I don't know if I ever told him how great he was at being Papa. Could You tell him? He was so gentle and got so much joy out of each one of his grandkids. Tell him he would be proud of all of them. And he sure loved us girls. There was never a question about that in any of our minds.

Maybe I just look for him in our kids, I don't know. I just know it makes me feel good when I think I see it. I think of him often and tell Hannah, Leah, and Rachel about him because I want them to know him. Could you tell him I have a hound dog named Pearl but Michael calls her "Blue" most of the time? He'll know why I wanted him to know that. You can tell him anything else You want, except maybe, that I have a horse. I'm not sure how he would feel about that. Happy Birthday, Daddy, I love you, and miss you terribly.

Well, back to the chickens. In about 5-6 months, I'll have enough eggs to supply most of the metroplex. I'm not going to name all the chicks until I see their personalities. I usually name my chickens after old movie stars. Marilyn was my best laying chicken out of the last batch until we couldn't find her anymore. She laid in the barn, the horse stalls, buckets, anywhere she could fit, she'd drop an egg. Hopefully I'll have another Marilyn. I believe the odds are in my favor.