Sep 18, 2011

Fullfilling Life Long Dreams or The Week In An Eggshell

Frizzle chickens

There's a chill in the air. It's currently 81 degrees.


I love this time of year. One can actually garden and not faint.

On the home improvement scene this week I'm moving my entire house around and rearranging furniture. My friend, Heart of Dixie, sent a twin four poster bed with carved roses on the head board all the way from Alabama for The Baby a few weeks ago. Iris/Virus's hubby, The Beard, set it up.

It is gorgeous!

The Baby is tickled pink with her "Princes Bed." Literally. She keeps wrapping her self up in the pink canopy that drapes over the posts, giggling. While making the bed up with the linens I had just washed, I bumped "The Finger" which pulsated blood everywhere.

The Princess Bed quickly turned into a crime scene.

I immediately transferred The Baby, fresh from the tub, to the twin bed in the same room (that I had also just made up) where she promptly peed all over the Pottery Barn Quilt and through the layers of sheets and blankets. I was up til midnight washing everything.


This week The Boy and I hauled furniture from the garage and from up stairs where I dropped a full sized box spring on my toe. You know the one with the horrific arthritic joint? The one that the orthopedic surgeon told me was the worse arthritis he had ever seen and I needed a joint replacement but they don't make artificial joints for that area?

Because that is life, isn't it? You have nine perfect toes so you drop the box spring on number ten.
I'm sure I broke it but it is so painful on a daily basis it sincerely doesn't matter.

I assured The Boy he did not need to call 911 and to simply ignore me. So proud of him for knowing the appropriate response to a woman's agonizing screams.

On the gardening scene this week I pulled weeds, bought established vegetable plants and planted tomatoes, cabbage, zucchini, and lettuce. I'm growing everything in pots this winter, inspired by one of my favorite blog-sters and by Mrs. M who does pots and "doesn't have the patience for seeds." I'm amending the soil with manure.

So much poo. So little time.

On the school scene Mrs. M and I attended the first PTA meeting at The Boy's school where the president was telling a new parent about the PTA's biggest fundraiser, The Auction, ending with the statement, "and they serve beer and wine." Mrs. M leaned over to me and whispered that they should also serve alcohol at the PTA meetings.

I love Mrs. M.

I also love The Boy's new teacher, Mrs. Zookeeper as does The Boy, although he sorely misses Mrs. Needs-To-Be-Canonized.

Mrs. Needs-To-Be-Canonized
who greeted me at the car circle dressed like an alien this week to promote a school fund raiser. This was probably the catalyst that prompted my Menierre's attack. The metallic fabric of her weird garb swirled round and round provoking a serious case of nystagmus. We really take our 8th cranial nerve for granted.

The Boy wraps Mrs. Needs-To-Be-Canonized in toilet paper.

On the crafting scene I'm working on a project for The Baby's room. A month ago I eyeballed a nasty, plastic king-sized headboard in a local thrift shop which was seriously ugly but had intriguing swirls that would make an awesome side rail for the other twin bed. I knew exactly how i would turn this eye-sore into a work of art but not for the $59.00 they were asking. No way, Jose.

Who actually happens to be the manager of the thrift store.

This week it was still there. No surprise. I spoke with Jose and told him something i think he already knew. No way was he selling that plastic atrocity for $30.00. Yes it was still "half-price." I noticed all the other headboards were gone but my king-sized blight on the head board industry was standing alone. He gleefully gave it to me for $20.00. I can't wait to show you my creation!

After I go out and charge a new camera.

On the fulfilling life long dream scene I ordered a water bath, steamer, canner to fulfill my life long ambition of canning my own produce and unable to wait for it's arrival, I spent the evening watching You Tube videos on making home made sauerkraut. This does not require a canner.

I have a crock
festering fermenting in the kitchen as we speak.

One of the kraut videos showed a woman stomping the cabbage with her feet to make her sauerkraut. I will never do this. I know. I know. You are probably saying that people drink wine whose grapes were stomped by foot but they are probably also drunk and don't really think about the toe jam thing.

As God is my witness I will never step on my kraut.

On the fulfilling life long dream scene part two I have begun the fulfillment of my life-long chicken ambition. The Boy and I are going to modify a Dogloo that I purchased on Craig's List into a coop. I have a lot of research ahead of me right now but hope to be up and running in a few months. I am employing my neighbor to make a predator proof, custom fit, door/ramp for the coop although I haven't informed him of this yet.

He will also be helping me build a chicken tractor so they can free range in the garden. I haven't shared that with him either.

I am saving and preparing egg shells to re-feed them and researching additional ways to feed them inexpensively. We're raising earthworms to supplement any commercial feed we will have to purchase. Guess who's in charge of the worms?

And we are researching chicken breeds primarily interested in egg layers that are heat tolerant. I love the Frizzles.

We will purchase 3 which is what they advise instead of the two that i really wanted. Since chickens are very social beings within their own cluck cliques if something happens to one the other two will be ok. I've also learned from Brasilia when Peep was killed by a predator leaving Re-Peep alone and lonely. They've had behavioral issues with Re-Peep ever since the tragedy.

Also this way we all get to name a chicken except The Baby who sincerely does not give a hoot about anything involving nature. If it isn't pink, purple, frilly or involves shopping and looking in the mirror she is not interested.

The Boy has named his prospective chicken Sabrina. The Teenager has named hers, Elliana. I will be having a name-that-chicken contest once the girls arrive. The winner will'll just have to wait and see.

All in all it's been a very good week. I'm off now to finish a two story cardboard three dimensional replica of our house with The Baby. Her homework.

No comment.

So how was your week?


Birdie said...

I am getting chickens next year! I can't wait. I have some names already picked out too. Look into it but I was of the understanding that you should not feed chickens egg shells because it may cause them to eat their own eggs.

Sorry about your toe. Ug. That sounds so painful. :-(

Mama Melissa said...

you crack me up. :) those chickens are cute!! i've never seen chickens that look like that... at first i thought they looked like mini owls... except for the feet. LOL.

and OUCH about your toe.



Birdie: I know the cautions about feeding chickens their own egg shells. Not sure if it is a wives tale or factual yet BUT supposedly there is a way to prepare the shells so you don't turn them in to egg addicts.You soak them in hot water and then dry them out. Then put them in the micro for 90 seconds to 4 minutes and crush them with a rolling pin. This will add extra calcium to their diet without making them egg bandits. And we eat soooo many eggs I am now going through the micro routine and storing the shells. They can be used as grit instead of Oyster shells and they need grit to digest their food. Read this:


Melissa: Aren't they just adorable? I think there may have been some hanky panky in their lineage with owls....Their eggs are probably the size of marbles though and I can't see peeling a marble for breakfast so they may not be a good choice!

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the laugh. I needed it. Sorry to hear about your foot.

robin said...

i LOVE me some chickens! we've kept them for nearly 8 years--just the usual whites, but right now we have Buff Orpingtons. i gotta get me some of the Frizzles. too totaly cute!

and, yeah, Bubba and Flowergirl name them. Although Rosie recently passed (hang your head a moment!) we still have Emily, Emily 2, and Junior.

Yep. a chicken named Junior. my life is cmoplete!

Jennie said...

Um, what does Vanna White think about chickens? :)