Eggs, I have Eggs!

Let's just ignore the fact that I haven't posted in I don't know how long, ok? Thanks!

Now on to matters of great import. My two darling Rhode Island Red hens have begun to bless me with lovely brown eggs. I had scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday morning, and they were delicious! Now I just have to wait (patiently, which is not one of my finer points), for the 6 Buff Orpingtons, and the 5 Barred Rocks to lay. My egg days have begun people! Good news is, I have lots of friends and family who want eggs, because there is no way Brad and I are going to be able to keep up with 13 hens.

Yes, I did have roosters. They are now in the freezer. One attacked my poor wee hens, and the other decided to attack me. I made Brad do the evil deed, and the girls are none the wiser that I ordered the execution of their boyfriends. Let's just keep it that way, hmm?

Brad and I are alone in our house for the first time since 1987! Sara and her boyfriend moved into an apartment the first of July. I miss her, but I've wasted no time filling the closet in her old room with unfinshed quilt tops, and I'm measuring the room to get my own longarm quilting machine. That won't happen until next spring, but I'm so excited!!! At this time, I have over 20 quilt tops waiting to be quilted. Yikes!

Life has been busy, money is still nonexistant (what else is new!), and Brad and I are adjusting to things staying where we put them, and having milk in the fridge. Also, it's amazing how much longer the bathroom stays clean! Who'd have thought?

No, I have not fallen into a volcano.

It's so much easier to avoid life than actually live it. And I've been avoiding everything, work, play, my family, my pets, even the things I love. It's much easier to check out, surf the web, watch TV, start one project, only to start another. Spend money I don't have on shit I don't need.

But avoidance is only getting me depressed, angry, behind in everything, more overweight and out of shape. Did I mention depressed?

So, I'm trying to get back to my life. My loves, my hates, my mehs. Bear with me (if anyone ever reads this but me). I'm coming back slowly, and hopefully better than before. Hell, I'm even making potato salad for dinner!

I'm tired of avoiding. Time to start living again, no matter how stressful and wonderful that is.

Things Not To Ponder

I had a delicious Water Buffalo Mozzarella, fresh basil, tomato, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, and pepper sandwich on 9 Grain Bread for lunch. It was exquisitely delicious. Words cannot describe. I do not however, even want to begin to contemplate how one begins to milk a water buffalo. Just don't want to know.

Loss

Sometime this week I would have been celebrating the 16th birthday of my second child. I am mourning instead, because I suffered a miscarriage 10 weeks into my pregnancy. Early I know, but no less devastating to lose my baby. It still hurts today.

Most of the time, I'm okay. This loss may explain my zeal for making baby quilts to be given to infants born at the local hospitals, babies who sometimes go home without a warm blankie to snuggle in. I honestly don't think about my missing child while I'm working on those quilts. I'm filled with joy, thinking of the child that particular quilt will end up with, sewing love and good wishes as well as stitches.

But today, that loss is heavy on my heart. Someone in my life is facing the emminent loss of their unborn child. I can do nothing for this person but love them, and grieve with them. And to be honest, that sucks. Big time.

Tomorrow, I will be working on three more quilts for babies I will never meet. And I'm afraid that I will be shedding tears as well as joy and love all over those quilts.

It's A Good Thing I'm Cute

So, I made this grand decision that I was going to raise laying hens, reducing my family and friends need to buy eggs at the store. I, of course, jumped into this with both feet, and not much of a sense of what this was all going to entail, but hey, a positive attitude counts for something.

So on a Sunday morning, Brad and I headed down to the local feed store, because it was Chick Days! Over 1000 chicks, all tiny, cute peeping bundles of fuzz. Now mind you, we did not intend to purchase chicks on this day. We didn't have a coop built yet, and besides, Brad was sure this was only the first of four chick days. We'd have at least a month to get the coop up, and get ready for said chickens. On a side note, Brad and I have been together for almost 24 years now. He should know that I am totally powerless in the face of cute, tiny, fuzzy baby animals. This is why we have five barn cats. Barn cats that I feed twice a day, name, and worry over incessantly. And a house cat. The only reason we don't have more than two dogs is that Keon is HUGE, and the thought of another dog galloping around the house fills me with terror. All I'm saying, Brad should have known better.

Upon arrival at said local feed store, we found the room of chicks. Dear sweet mercy people, the level of cuteness was staggering. As was the level of peeping. I never stood a chance. Especially when our friend and next door neighbor who works there informed us that this was the only Chick Days. There would be no other days of suffocating cute fluffiness. What's a girl to do? Undetered by the fact that I had no coop for these darling chicks, I proceeded to pick out 16 darling, tiny Rhode Island Red Chicks. Was I at all concerned that only four of them were red, and the other 12 were yellow? No, not me. Remember that comment earlier about not much sense. Yeah.

People, I have 12 Cornish Cross broiler chickens, and four Rhode Island Red chickens. Cornish Cross broiler chickens are not egg layers. They are MEAT chickens. I did not want meat chickens at this juncture in my chicken career. Eventually yes, but not now. I wanted laying hens.

Looking at my darling Rhode Island Red chicks this morning (they are about three weeks 0ld at this point), I noticed that three of them appear to be growing lovely, curving ROOSTER tails. Yes, that's right. Out of 16 chicks, I managed to get ONE, I repeat, ONE freaking laying hen. Please excuse me while I have a little drink.

Home Again, Home Again

As of Saturday, February 21st, we are home, sweet home. It was just a little over two months since the fire, but it certainly seemed like a lifetime. Everything went by the wayside, except for working on the house. Now we are trying to put everything away, and resume some sort of normalcy in our lives. Or at least what passes for normal around here.

I wish the blog had not suffered, but I only had so much energy, and to tell the truth, I spent a period of time terrible depressed. I am better now, and so grateful for my home and my family. I will be posting on a regular basis now. I find this helps me clear my mind, and focus. Now if it could only clear out all those boxes cluttering up my pretty new home! LOL

Hug somebody

Just when you think you are beginning to get a handle on things, life tosses another disaster your way. At least this time, the disaster may actually be running in our favor. You be the judge.

Sunday evening we were having some problems with breakers blowing in our house. Nothing Brad or our electrician friend did could make the breakers stay on. Half of my house was without power, including my sewing room. The electrician friend was going to think on things overnight, and come back Monday to see if he could figure things out. He was sure it was a short, just not sure where it might be. Also, the funny smell that came and went was a little troubling, but not overly so.

Fast-forward to 1:41 am. The funny smell is now so strong that it smells like smoke. I get up, go into the family room, and hear crackling coming from my ceiling. I check outside to make sure the snow storm from hell has not descended. Clear, cold sky. (Cold as in -15). I get Brad up, and make him come listen to the ceiling. It is on fire people. Yes, I said fire. As in flames, in my ceiling, of my home.

I get Sara up, throw on some clothes, and start gathering things to get the hell out of the house. Brad is calling 911. Sara is getting dressed, still not sure what is going on, but knows when Mom uses that voice, she'd better shake it fast. I grab my car keys, Penny dog, and head out to my Jeep. Get Penny loaded, move the Jeep away from the front of the house. Start Brad's truck, and head back in for Keon. Keon is scared out of his tiny yellow Lab mind, and does not want to leave the house. Sara manages to get him into my Jeep. I grab Bast, and throw her in Sara's car. Head back into the house, get all the cash, important papers, and checks. Brad and Sara are loading guns and game mounts into the back of the truck. I grab a couple of rifles to put in the cab of the truck, and realize that while I did good starting the truck, I also managed to lock the doors, with the only key in the ignition. Swearing commenced. Crying also, to tell the truth.

One advantage to living in a rural area is that you have a damn good chance that one of your next door neighbors is a member of the voluteer fire department. Martin was at my house in three minutes. He assessed the situation, and helped us move things out of the house. There isn't much else I can do at this point. The fire trucks have arrived, so I go stand by the Jeep, call my brother Joe in California, and cry like a little girl. Joe is awesome, lets me babble all I want, and keeps me out of everyone else's hair so they can do what needs to be done. It takes a good man to get a hysterical phone call from your sister in the middle of the night, stay calm, and talk her down. I love him more than words can say. I'm even sorry for most of the lousy things I did to him when we were kids.

The firemen were awesome. They got in the house, moved my tin pie safe to a safer place, took all my family pictures off the wall and stacked them in the kitchen. One guy opened up the ceiling while another stood ready with the water hose. The fire was out in minutes. I walked back in the house, and the guys apologized for the mess. For crying out loud, these guys saved my house, and they thought I'd be upset over a mess. I could have kissed them all. Seriously.

What could have been a devastating loss is only minor damage. The insurance company is being awesome, the adjustor was at the house within three hours of the initial phone call to our agent. My girlfriend Susan hadn't rented her trailer home yet, and the insurance company paid for two months of rent and utilites yesterday. Brad's boss loaned us the big enclosed trailer to move our furniture with. The dogs are safe at the boarder until we get all moved in, and then they can come home. Bast is still at the house, safe in my bedroom, and I'll bring her over the rental tomorrow or Friday. We did not loose one personal possession people. Just carpet, drywall, flooring, etc. Not one personal thing. We've had more offers of help, places to stay, the girls next door offered to take over feeding the horses and cows for us. The place we are renting is only about three miles away from home. Susan and her husband Tom opened their home to us until we get things moved and arranged in the rental. We are well insured, so everything will be fixed, and even some things will be uprgraded.

Most importantly, we are all safe, and know exactly how many people we can count on. That list is large, and perhaps the best Christmas present I will ever receive. There will be no presents this year, but I have my family, my friends, my pets, and my home. I think that is enough.

Getting ahold of me will be a little difficult for a while. Either send me an email to moosethreaddesigns AT gmail DOT com, or call my cell 406-240-9270. If you are a spammer, and call my phone, I will hunt you down and make your life miserable. I promise.

Just know that we are all safe, sound, and in very good hands. This last year has been trying, and damn near impossible, but I have lots of people who love my family, and are taking good care of us. I can't explain how grateful I am for all of that. Go hug someone for me, okay?