Sleeping Like a Baby

Peace and order has been restored up in this house.

I'm happy to report that the baby bird has quit it's peepin'.

It reminded me a lot of growing up - sharing a bedroom with three sisters.

We'd be talking and giggling up a storm, and then out of nowhere my mother's silhouette would appear in the doorway.

"I don't want to hear another peep out of youns!"

I scoured NW Indiana for baby birds.

Nada.

One feed store will have some in three weeks.

I brought the baby out in the cage and put it by the other chickens.

They were mighty interested.

In hurting it.

Phyllis the ever broody banty (who just happens to be NOT right now) clucked in a way that gave me hope.

After all - with a name like Phyllis - you'd think you could count on her.

I don't know anyone named Phyllis, but if I did, I would imagine them to be prompt to Bunco, bearing an appetizer to share - the kind of gal with an always tidy hairdo and a clean toilet.

Well, Phyllis the chicken let me down ya'll.

I found some information online that suggested putting a mirror and a feather duster in the cage.

Worked like a charm.

The minute the mirror went in - poof, that baby be done got all quiet.

Then I started checking to make sure it wasn't dead.

It was that quiet.

We both slept like babies last night.

Amen.

In other news - Maude came home after being gone for two days with a shiner.

Her nest has been abandoned, and two eggs were broken, and other's moved about.

We aren't sure what happened, but we have put Maude in rehab.

She seems very repentant.  My heart aches for her.

I think the Italian Banty Mob knows something, but they aren't talkin'.

Thank you all for the great poison ivy advice.  The spot on my chin is the worst, my arms, belly and thigh isn't that bad.  Poison ivy is everywhere around here - I do believe it came in a load of mulch one year.  I pull it out with my bare hands and laugh at it.  Well - this time it got the last laugh.  I'm on the mend.  It wasn't bad.

A few of you had commented about me having a baby bird in my bra, and what about the poop?

Good question.

Lest you think I walk around with a poopy bra - I had to clear this up.  First of all - the danged bird was so traumatized that it wouldn't eat or drink.  I do believe it was just hours old when I snatched it.

However, I wrap it in a small, thin towel before I insert it betwixt me bosoms.  Otherwise, I would be freaking out.

And normally - I do not stay up all night holding a bird.  Usually when I have the baby

 birds up in the house, they are fine and content in their box, cause they have company.

In other other news - I'm leaving tomorrow morning on my great adventure,.

I don't mean to be all vague - but because my other friends have not yet shared on their blogs what's going on, I don't really want to let the cat out of the bag.
Not that there is a cat, or a bag, but I'ze just want to be polite.

I should be packing and getting ready to go - but here I sit, up on the internet.

I finally sewed my new pj pants today, but only have one slipper knitted up.  Gone be a long night.

I was hoping to respond to some of the newcomers here, and catch up on my emails - but ya'll don't want me only wearing one slipper do you?  I'll have to get to it when I come home.

If I weren't so busy trying to get out of town, I would have SO painted that birds toenails tonight.

And maybe fashioned a hat for it.

Maybe.