Just Another Manic Monday

Wow, what a busy weekend we had. We went to my in-law's on Saturday. T-man's grandma is down from Pennsylvania. We get to see here about once a year. T-man's mom is trying to talk Nana into moving down to Texas. We'll see how that goes. We spent most of the day there visiting and had dinner (less cooking for us!) Yesterday morning, T-man build a temporary pen for my cheepers. They really enjoyed being out in the sun. I found one little worm to give them, which caused quite a fracas. Then there was the bug that bit me and promptly got fed to the nearest chick! Oddly enough, the cats are not interested in them. Then we went to my folks' house, where T-man finally got the mower working (third time's a charm). It seems that the teenaged part-time help at the big box home improvement store (the red vests) kept giving them the wrong belts! Oh well, it works now and that's what's important. And my dad told us stories of when my grandfather used to raise fighting cocks, and his winning one-eyed rooster. And yes, it was illegal then but, as Dad says, only if you got caught. Evidently Grandad made a bundle with the one-eyed rooster. Rest assured, beadlings, mine are here strictly for the eggs. And again, we stayed for dinner (yippee!).

Today, as soon as it warms up some, I'll take the chicks outside again. I'll probably take some beading out there to sit and keep an eye on them and I'll take the camera to get some pictures of the little puff balls. Until then, I'll be sitting here typing my fingers to the bone! And remember, bead kind to others and they'll bead kind to you!

It's Monday

Ah, procrastination. Don't you just love the way it feels? I do, at least until I realize how late I'm running and then panic sets in. Actually, I'm printing as I type.

I've been reading up on chickens. I did go to my expert adviser (my mom) this weekend. My grandparents had chickens for as long as I can remember. I have two early childhood memories of them. The best is Grandad walking around the yard with his bantam pullet Henry on his shoulder. Come to find out, Henry was a hen, but she still rode on his shoulder even after she matured. The other memory is not so good. I was always told not to go near the chicken pens by myself (varmint traps, varmints, snakes, scorpions) but one day I did. Lo and behold, there was a snake behind the door of the pen. I screamed, Grandad killed the snake (a very long white racer) and T got her bottom spanked. I must have been all of five years old, but I remember both of these things vividly. I have found another place to purchase the little buggers at a slightly lower price with more varieties of chicks! Maybe I can talk T-man into getting me some Ameraucanas so I can have blue eggs! And Marans so I can have dark brown eggs (supposedly, they taste better than the usual brown eggs), and Silkies so I have have at least one funky chicken. Whatever we get, you can bet your sweet ass that there will be pictures! By the way, I'll take pictures of the new kittens when they open their eyes. And Scruffy Cat fell in the pool this morning. Oh, she's fine. She's just a bit embarrassed.

Anyway, there's not much going on over here, so I'm headed for the little scale and the little baggies (I have always told people to think of my as their pusher!). Tomorrow I will try to regale you with stories from class. Bead happy!