At the moment we have nine chickens. I do like the eggs that our hens have been giving us, but these birds can be a pain, too.
Our barn cats have gotten used to coming to our front porch for their morning and evening meals. Usually, I call “Kitty. Kitty.” to get their attention, if they aren’t already there, but I’ve had to stop calling them. The chickens think I’m calling them to eat and they come to the porch, too.
Chickens will eat about anything, even chicken. They like to peck around on the cat food and scraps I set out for the cats.
Most of the time the cats keep eating and ignore the birds. It’s only when a rooster comes on the porch that cats are annoyed. The rooster likes to boss the cats around.
Good thing the chickens don’t eat too much of the cat food. It’s just that they are a bother.
One of our little hens has decided she wants to set on eggs now. There’s no dissuading her. I marked 4 eggs so I know that these are the ones that she is brooding. Any unmarked eggs are taken out of the nest daily.
I really don’t need any more chickens, ESPECIALLY roosters. I debated about even giving the little hen 4 eggs. She would be happy with two.
Oh well, we’ll see in three weeks if this little mama has any little ones. If she does, let’s hope they are hens.
Our farm lane still has issues with water, even so, Bob and I took Sunny for a ride in our cart.
Bob and Sunny did make room for me to ride, too.
Sometimes Sunny tries to take up more seat than he needs. We don’t like to leave him home. If he sees or even hears the cart running, he wants to join us and he is sad if we leave him behind–yes, dogs do get sad and don’t like to be left at home, even for fifteen minutes.
So we three took a ride this Monday evening. The sun was shining and the birds were twittering, but no deer were seen. Still, we were all glad for the nice farm outing.
Don’t ever regret enjoying a beautiful day. You never know when another will come along.
My day is ending and I haven’t written my blog. Here are my thoughts for this evening.
When Bob and I were first married we didn’t have anything to decorate our mobile home. In my endeavor to put a little color into our rooms without spending much money, I started collecting salt and pepper shakers.
Back in the 1970s, rummage sales had the best bargains. For twenty-five cents, I could buy sets of all sorts and sizes. I liked the funny ones best, but anything, odd or different was good, too–I even brought home some chipped ones just because they were so different.
After a time I actually had too many salt and pepper shakers. There was no room in my curio cabinet so some got packed away. Also, our toddlers were accident prone and pieces were broken.
As time has passed, the price of the shakers went from a quarter to $2, to $5 or more. Good thing I had no need for more.
Maybe, if I look through my cabinets and stored sets now I might find a few real treasures. But I doubt it.
They served their purpose. But I’ve gone off collecting salt and pepper shakers or any knickknacks. The main reason why I’m no longer fond of them is because they have to be dusted.
Every year, teachers work hard figuring out little inexpensive gifts their students can make for their mothers on Mother’s Day. One particular gift I got many years ago is still etched in my memory.
Our first born, Robby, was going to a pre-school out in the country. This was a couple of hours, a few times a week.
The Friday before Mother’s Day, I parked in the driveway waiting for my little boy. Other children came out of the house. Each held a colorful handmade tissue paper flower–the flower was about the size of the child’s head.
Eventually, Robby came out, but he wasn’t holding a flower. To keep his gift a surprise he hid his flower under his jacket–not one of his better plans.
“I have something for you, Mommy, but you can’t have it until Mother’s Day.”
“Is it a ball?” I asked. “Or a horse? Or a flying carpet?”
He giggled. “No. And I can’t tell you.”
When we got home, Robby ran upstairs to his bedroom. From the living room, I heard him cry.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
“NO! Not you.”
“I’ll send Daddy up when he gets home from work. Okay?”
“Okay,” Robby sniffled.
Later that day, Daddy went upstairs and saved the day.
When Mother’s Day arrived, I was very surprised when Robby handed me my unsmashed tissue paper flower. It’s a memory I’ll cherish forever.
I was working my way through a few youtube videos about a particular art technique when our cat, Othello came for a look see.
This cat has been with us for fifteen years and this is the first time he was drawn to my computer screen.
As the teacher’s brush moved across the screen Othello tried to catch it with his paw. I should have chased him away but he was being so cute.
Othello even looked behind my laptop to see if the hand was back there, too.
The cat shouldn’t have been on the table and I thought to shoo him away, but changed my mind. Othello was just as entertaining as the video.
Soon the cat lost interest and I went back to studying the painting technique on the screen. I don’t know if I learned anything, but Othello did teach me something. Even an old cat can be playful…if he wants to.