Energy

In light of Earth Day I feel it necessary to talk about earth friendly concepts.

So, no, the dog really doesn't have anything to do with Earth Day, you're right.

But she knows a lot about energy.

Someone just needs to fill her in on the whole notion of conservation.

The Kong has become King here lately.

And every once in a while she stops. Briefly.

I've been a little bit devious I admit, employing the kids to talk up the notion of a second dog, especially in the presence of Daddy. Supposedly Lauren told him they should get me one for Mother's Day.

"I can't believe you're soliciting the kids to talk me into getting another dog!" he remarked the other day.

"What? Who, me? I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about" I said with a big grin. But she sure could use a playmate of the canine sort.

Life in the slow lane

"Hey lady, what do you want?"

"We're tired, can't you tell?"

"Seriously...zzz...go...zzz...away...zzzzzzzzzzz."

Despite the squawking, chirping and flapping of wings, they're more like babies than I thought they'd be. Eat, poop, sleep, repeat. A routine highly reminiscent of the baby days.

While I was at work yesterday the girls made a sign for the coop,

Kevin installed a short door and half wall between the storage space and where the birds' nesting boxes and roosts will be,

and John helped a tremendous amount, so the story goes, nailing up paneling inside and helping install the roosts and this guillotine-style hen door that will lead to their yard.



There is an irony in this whole process that I hope is not going unnoticed. The chickens are getting great care from a certain man who has told me more than once, "These are chickens, not pets, we will not get emotionally attached, we are not naming them" and so on and so forth. Yet, he reports to me about their various personalities and habits and has dedicated great thought, time and care into their dwelling space. I'm thinking he cares more than he lets on.

Much to his dismay they all now have names thanks in great part to one of my nieces. They are: Peck, Dorothy, Spot, Chirp, Cloud, Sleepy, Snowy, and Lucy. Fortunately I'm managing to keep them alive.

At the end of the day

At the end of the day the white on the hostas jumps up at me.

The iris say hello to the barn,

and the dogwood makes me think of a child at her parents feet.

At the end of the day I am tired and I think back to the whirlwind that comes with Spring.

The weekend was packed and seemed brief, my body finally settling into a chair and slowing to a reasonable pace. Saturday morning began early with baseball pictures, a game and opening day ceremonies. I had a farmers market meeting (can't believe it starts so soon!) and the rest of the day was a blur with cousins and whiffle ball games and tractor rides and chickschickschicks, dinner and the final collapse. I awoke early again only to work at the hospital all day, happy to come home, immensely grateful for my health and starkly reminded that these are the greatest of times, paving the road of our future as a family.

Chicks gone wild

(is that the look of a city mouse or what?)

If it's chick entertainment you're looking for I have one word for you, earthworms. Yesterday after the kids came home from school I set them to the task of digging up worms in the garden so we could feed them to the chicks. They were on it with such excitement you'd think I told them we were going to Busch Gardens.

It was all out pandemonium at feeding time. I'm pretty sure they'd never seen a worm before but it took about 2 pecks and 3 seconds before feathers were flying, beaks were pecking with reckless abandon and they were racing around the bin I have them in. The squawking was at an all-time high as if each chick was saying, "It's MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE! gimmeegimmeegimmeegimmee!"

Worms were flying, getting chopped in half, chicks were all over top of each other and getting stuck behind feeders and such, each trying to flee from the other. At one point a worm landed on this one's back and she kept searching around for it as it dangled from her wing.

I must say they are rather easy animals to care for at this point. Their only requirements are food, water, a clean environment, warmth and safety from predators. That's it. They definitely don't want any more of me or the kids than it takes to fill those basic needs.

But of course I've been a tad neurotic about the whole thing, especially that first night. Kevin and I were sitting up watching t.v. after the kids went to bed and I heard him say, "Earth to Amy, where'd my wife go, what's gotten into you?"

"I'm paranoid that they're too cold, that they're going to freeze to death, that the light bulb is going to catch everything on fire and the whole tool shed is going to burn down (we don't have them in the coop yet, no electricity down there), or that the light bulb is going to burn out, and that my new ferns and peonies are going to die because it's going to freeze tonight. Does that answer your questions?" I replied.

I think he shook his head, muttered an "Oh great!" and then said something like "Why don't you just go check on them?"

"I think I will. And I'm bringing my plants inside while I'm at it."

But to myself I was just laughing at the clear difference in the way some women and men are wired. I know why women have babies and men do not. I see clearly why some men are stronger and can build great chicken coops (or houses) with ease and actually like it. I realized quickly why I'm the one responsible for keeping the chicks alive, when from the moment they came home and I sat quietly looking in their bin, watching their every movement, listening to their contented little peeps with a growing warmth in my chest that only comes from caring for another living thing. I'm glad I'm me and I'm glad he's him and I will happily keep it that way. The world needs both sides of the equation if you ask me.

The prediction

Ten years ago today we bought our house and being the city girl I was at the time Kevin had great fun joking with me, saying, "One day honey you're gonna have chickens and do crafts! Mark my words."

"Pshawww, yeah, right!" I think was my response, "Chickens and crafts, I wouldn't know how to operate a hot glue gun if I tried!" And that is still true today, however the knitting needles, crochet hooks and yarn get quite the workout around here as you may well know. As for the chickens I never had poultry dreams or any notion that they would be a good idea. After all, we had already started gutting our farmhouse before we moved in and both worked full time. We spent months without a kitchen and a year and a half renovating all while living in a construction zone and loving (almost) every minute of it. Then came the kids. One, two, three, boom, boom, boom, just like that all in three years time. Chickens were nowhere on my radar screen as you can imagine, life was crazy enough.

But now that things have settled down somewhat and my youngest will go to big school next year, I'm looking at our life here through different eyes. Kevin has again joked with me that the chickens would be astronomically expensive ones had we to pay someone to build the coop that he built but it's really not about that. To us, it's about truly experiencing and actively participating in our lives here. The animals, the landscape, the garden, they all enhance our experience and we become intertwined with this place. It means so much more to me than the mall (although I really like having an Anthropologie close, don't get me wrong!)

I asked Kevin last night if he had any more predictions for me since he hit the nail on the head with his original two. "I have two words for you...churning butter...you wait and see" he said.

Ummm, I'll just leave you with that to ponder for a while.

A timely reminder

There are times when our days are clear and sunny, we know which way to go, our direction is clear and there is nothing impeding our forward motion. Life is good and prosperity follows.

Then other days seem just the opposite. We become engulfed in our surroundings, our situation, our troubles and can't see past them. We lack perspective or wisdom or a light at the end of the tunnel. We think life may not be so good after all and we are humbled by this notion, sometimes even scared and uncertain, fearful of what we may have to endure.

But even in the muck we remember from past experience that although the outside covering may be bumpy, hard, dirty, gross and ugly, there just might be something special lurking inside if we could just uncover it.

And maybe what we need to do more often is daydream, become lost in a good world for a while, ignoring or giving no weight to the heaviness that surrounds us. There is no place for ugliness in a world of dreams, and there is always the hope that we may catch something really big if we try but more importantly if we just believe.

Still there is something to be said for hard work and determination, knowing that our shovels may just unearth pure gold.

And if we try hard enough, stick around 'till the very end and have the patience to let others flit on by, we may get the chance to wear the really big gloves and have the fun all to ourselves.

I was reminded of all these things and more during the recent visit of my very dear friend, this one is dedicated to her.

Happy Easter

I'm writing during the lull between activities, or more like during the calm before the storm. The Easter Bunny brought baskets of sweets, books and outside activities for everyone. A real kickball, a whiffle ball/bat, a butterfly net and buckets, scoops and watering cans have kept the kids well occupied while I readied the house for guests. Six kids and six adults, food and a really, really big egg hunt should have us all well worn out by nighttime, contented and grateful that we can be together here.