Just Some Clucking

Sorry. The camera lens won't stay wiped clear of condensation long enough for me to get a good picture but there's Miss Broody Betty, still sitting on a nest. Poor little thing, hoping to raise some babies when I keep taking her eggs. I just know that I do not want any more chickens right now and if babies are hatched, some are sure to be roosters and well, Sam made good chicken and dumplings but poor Mr. Moon- it's not easy for him to slaughter our own birds.
Although, now that I think about it, I am being nothing but sentimental and silly. If we eat chicken, which we do, it would make far more sense to eat our own.
Oh hell. I don't know.
Back in the olden hippie back-to-the-land days we all would have made out a lot better if we'd grown or shot some of our own meat. We did raise one pig, my first husband and I, but it was not a pleasant experience. We weren't set up right and had no idea what we were doing. But eventually, she did become pork chops and fresh hams. And thinking about that, I wish I had a smoke house. Mr. Moon could hunt wild hog and WE COULD MAKE OUR OWN BACON!
Wow.
Awesome thought.
Who knows? Maybe.

Meanwhile, back at the not-ranch, I just took the chickens a bunch of leftover treats and let them out. No matter what I put for them in the coop, if the door is open, they want out. And out they go, running like crazy for the cat food which they love above all other treats.

Owen is coming out soon. His daddy is actually off today but I pleaded for time with the boy and since Jason is helping his mother redo her flooring, it was somewhat convenient for him to bring Owen out here. I CAN'T WAIT TO GET MY HANDS ON THAT BOY!

And I just spoke to Miss Jessie Moon who is about to go out to Denver to see That Boy. He has a name. It is Virgil. We have not met him, the friends and family of Jessie, but we are trusting her judgment. She knows by now what a good man looks like and acts like and she surely thinks that Virgil is one. But still- that baby is flying far from her mama's nest and it's hard to let her go. I knew this day would come- I've watched her grow her wings and they are glorious, believe me. They open like slow dawn, big as the whole horizon, glowing pink and rosy and fine and strong. It is inevitable that she must use them.
This is one of the hardest parts of being a mother, watching your child fly, even if at the same time, it is the very experience which tells you that you have done your job.
Well. It's too hot to get all worked up over it and it wouldn't do any good. I am just happy for her and I hope all the pilots of all the planes she is going to be on today had a good night's sleep and did not quarrel with their spouses this morning.

And I'll get to see Kathleen this afternoon. She is coming by with her visiting nephew after her radiation treatment. Mr. Moon and I got her a silly present in Madison, Georgia. I can't wait to give it to her. Mostly I can't wait to hug her.

So here I am- home again with my chickens and grandson about to be here and my beautiful old funky house and my beautiful old funky life and I could not ask for more.