Wooly Bears are Back!

It is that time of year when the trees start to change from green to various shades of red, yellow, and orange. I love the change from summer to fall. The excitement of apple picking, walks in the woods, and carving pumpkins brings out the inner child in me. One of my favorite things to see in fall is the emergence of the beautiful wooly bears! Yeah! The other day I saw my first wooly bear as I was walking Max up the hill. I looked down and there I saw it crawling across the road. Of course I had to stop and look at it. It made me smile. I immediately picked it up and put it in the woods so it would not get run over by a car. Some memories from my childhood rushed to me as I saw the wooly bear. The smell of the crisp fall air, running through the woods with my brother on mini hiking trips, and putting dead snakes in our sisters' mud pies.  Don't worry, no wooly bears were in the mud pies. He He! Of course, often you would see us picking up the wooly bears marveling at their brown and black colors while they would tickle our arm or palms as we held them. Thank you wooly bear for the memories!

Fresh Eggs for Sale - Update

We have been asked by several people how our egg sale has been going.  I thought I'd give a general update and let everyone know that today is the first day that we sold out of all our stock.  We sold one or two dozen here and there, but always had more in reserve behind those.  Over the last several days we have been selling a couple dozen eggs a day.  With seven chickens we can safely count on six eggs a day.  Take two away a day for our personal use.  That leaves four a day, or three days to make a dozen.  Ross and I have been talking about increasing our flock to fourteen or sixteen. If the demand keeps up we definitely will have to get more girls.

The Baby's Quilt

Sewing on the Binding

I have been waiting on the U.S. Postal Service to post this blog.  In what seems like a lifetime ago, Ross and I were neighbors with two sisters.  They gardened and we gardened.  They liked to cook and Ross cooked (and I like(d) to eat). They liked to make drinks and we liked to sit outside, talk, and imbibe (remember the red roofies anyone?).  There was chemistry there.

Well time moves on and so did the sisters, and then we eventually moved to Connecticut.  Ross has kept contact over the years.  We were excited when the one sister got pregnant with her first child.  She had a girl, and Ross made her a baby quilt. She is about ready to give birth to her second child, and lo and behold, a second quilt was sent.  Of course I could not release this blog until we had confirmation that the blanket was delivered by the U.S. Postal Service, or else I would ruin the surprise.

Ross does a great job making his quilts.  When we were at the Post Office, a gentleman had overheard the conversation between us and the postal worker about the blanket. He stopped and complimented Ross on his work.  It's nice to get such positive feedback (I never get tired of that small town feel).  Maybe one day Ross can sell his quilts too!

Pumpkins!

Its that time of year again folks! How I love to pick pumpkins from my garden to make pies, ravioli, breads, and cookies! When spring arrives each year I am eager to plant my sugar pumpkin seeds. As the seeds emerge from the ground the excitement begins. It is an exciting process to watch the vines grow hoping to have a fruit grow on them. I try not to pay too much attention because "watching the water boil" will take too long and the hope and excitement just can be too much. So, I tend to peek on them every once in a while with excitement. As summer comes to an end, the growing pumpkins really start to make me chuckle inside with excitement. When the day finally arrives to pick them, I become like a kid in a candy store. After picking them I tend to marvel at them and enjoy their simple beauty. Now what shall I make first? Hmmmm!

Poor, Sick Chicken

Our poor, sick chicken.

I wrote that line a couple hours ago, and then I had to stop...  

On, Monday Ross noticed that one of our chickens, Myrtle, was making a weird noise as she breathed.  On Tuesday, she was making this wheezing whine as she exhaled. We called the vet and got some medicine for her.  He said she possibly had either a gape worm that infected her trachea or a respiratory infection.  She got worse throughout the day and was even worse this morning.  We had her secluded from the rest of the girls.  As you can see in the picture, Ross was comforting her earlier today.  Unfortunately her illness got the best of her.  She passed away while I was holding her.  

I hate death.  I hate suffering.  I hate that moment when you're sitting there watching a poor, little creature suffer and you know there's no way back and you welcome death. You ask for it, beg for it, and then once you get it, you rue it.  That confliction-it's the cost of living, of loving, of feeling...

We buried Myrtle with her other fallen sisters up on the hill.  The area looks down over the house and is under an old apple tree that sprung up there probably from some deer's pooh dropped years ago.  She was a good, little chicken.  She will be missed.