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"Life doesn't have to be perfect to be wonderful."
- Unknown

"That which does not kill you, makes you stronger."
- Handed down through the ages.

"Life's tough. It's even tougher when you're stupid."
- John Wayne


When I was a child, I had a fairly accurate sense of time. Time was something concrete, something stationary. A day was this BIG chunk of time to work ones way through. I remember sitting in Mrs. K's 6th grade classroom, watching the clock (starting at about 2:20) make that PAINFULLY slower-than-a-slug trek towards the 3:05 dismissal bell. It . . . took . . . F-O-R-E-V-E-R.

Oh, how I wish time ticked by that slowly now.

I no longer have a handle on Time. Time is elusive. Time is slippery. Time is gone in the blink of an eye. Nothing delineates one too-busy day from the next but a few hours (certainly never enough) of sleep in between.


Last night as I was driving home, I passed the little crick where I photograph Blue Flag Irises each spring. I automatically thought, "I wonder how long it will be until things green up and they're in bloom?" WAIT A MINUTE! It's already early winter! You MISSED it!


That said, yes, it is early winter! We've been in the single digits at night lately, and last night the temperature bottomed out at 0°. Going out to do chores this morning in the 14° weather felt positively balmy!

And, speaking of balmy (ohh, my segues are GOOD this morning!) . . . I have some balmy chickens. As in daft. Stupid. Dumb. Not the brightest birds in the coop. A group of 6-8 of this spring's pullets have decided that flying up to the top of the chicken house - and from there into the trees on the OUTSIDE of the fence - and roosting there for the night is the way to go. The only way. (Yeah, they're gonna "go" alright . . . as soon as an owl figures out where the buffet is!)

Anyway, dummy me finally figured out that they were getting up to the top of the chicken house via the half of an old wooden ladder than I had propped against the side. (Yes, chickens can climb ladders.) So, I took that down. And, just to be on the safe side (after Tucker's plucker attack on Tom the Turkey and that hen), I had Tom (the Husband) trim the branches of the little tree that were overhanging the chicken house roof.

The results? See for yourself:

Yeah. Not exactly a blazing success.

Annie Blue came out to help me with chores. (Who forgot to paint the inside of the gate?!)

Lastly, although it's a bit blurry, here is a close-up of the White Crested Black Polish pictured above (on the top of the chicken house). I think it's a rooster although I've never heard him crow. It's very hard to tell with these crested birds since you can't see their combs. Anyway, heavily crested birds tend to be a little daft by virtue of the fact that they can't SEE a thing! And that problem is only exacerbated by drinking . . . and then not going inside to warm up, melt, and dry off at night. See, when this dummy drinks, his crest falls into the water. Then, it freezes. And then, since he doesn't sleep inside, the frozen crest never thaws . . . and more and more ice accumulates! As I said: Dummy!


  1. Thanks for taking the time to get a new post up! Your chicken saga tales are hilarious. Unbelieveable? Weird? Laughable? Just plain shake-my-head-able. And that guy with the ice dreds deserves a blog entry of his own. I suppose he's wondering why his head is starting to feel so much heavier.

    As the mommy who raised you and has to take partial credit (blame?) for instilling a strong work ethic, creative genes and desire to pursue so many interests . . . I'm sorry. :) We all need to find more hours for our days. More hours to sleep at night. OR we need to learn how to scale back and (duh!) realize there is only so much we can comfortably do. More emphasis on less? I dunno. When you get a handle on that time thing, let me know.

    Love ya.

  2. I'm having a really hard time too with the rapid passage of time as I get older (I'm still wondering how I got to be 50 years old already??)

    Silly chickens! Why do they want to sleep outside when you have that lovely house for them?

  3. Ruthie,

    The really weird thing with the stupid chickens is that (a group of) my chickens did that at our previous home, Hastings-on-the-Lake, too! Except . . . it was a different batch of chickens! The ones doing it now are this spring's pullets!

    One really stubborn one stayed outside during a stretch we had in the -20s! I've never lost one due to the cold although some combs have definitely been frozen. Maybe it toughens them up.

    The only thing I don't like about it is that I'm sure I'm not getting much egg production out of those ones since all their energy must be going to simply staying alive!

    Ah, well . . . .

  4. Thanks for the laugh-out-loud chicken saga!!! I've got to get me one of those crested beasties... though I think my hens might just laugh at him (I sense they're a bit stuck up that way.) My daughter would probably take one look at him and try and put hair clips on him! On second thought, maybe we should stick to the stuffy hens :)


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