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.



Sleeps With Chickens

Photo from Mother Earth News

That's my new Indian name.

Glen gave it to me at 3am this morning when he found me in my chair in the livingroom with a bra on, covered in poison ivy and sleeping with a baby chicken.

There is never a dull moment in this house.

I would love to show you some pictures, but I'm too tired to take them.  Sleeping with a day old chicken isn't easy.  I do remember a couple of dreams, so I know I slept some. The poor thing nearly chirped itself to death last night before I finally got up at 11 and consoled it. 

To clear up any confusion - Maude was sitting on 9 duck eggs, I suppose whilst she was away from her nest, a chicken happened upon it and decided to lay an egg herself.

Ergo - two chicken eggs be up in the nest, and one hatched.

I've spent the morning searching for more baby chickens.
Poultry Auction, Craig's List.

Maude is proving to be as unstable as a teenage brat star.  I don't know that I need to elaborate here and compound her shame.  She couldn't have mothered this chicken, as she kept leaving the nest and leaving it exposed to the three cats in the yard, and the other chickens, which have been known to be rather brutal to babies.  Law, I don't know if that bird be tippin' the bottle or doin' the crack.  Not sure which demon has her, but I'm thinking it's the demon liquor.

She's gone at the moment, and has been off the nest for more than an hour.  The nest isn't covered as it usually is when she's gone.  This doesn't bode well my friends.

I put the stuffed chicken that Cindy brought me in the cage with it - it seems to be soothing it, and breaking my heart at the same time.  I think I have no choice other than buy a small dog purse, paint it's toenails, buy that bird some bling and carry it everywhere I go.

And don't you think for a heartbeat I wouldn't.

Some 'Splainin to Do

Ya'll remember Maude and Claude (God rest his soul)?

Ya'll remember Maude's grieving and taking up with the cat?

Ya'll remember Maude's little video of her scurrying off somewhere up in a hurry?

Well - scandal ensues at The Coop.

Here's where she was scurrying to.

That bird be up on the nest.

Who's nest?

Maude's nest!

Mocha the Cat didn't take the news too good, and there was trouble in paradise as you can see here:

I feel a Jake and Vienna happenin' here.

Seems that Mocha barely had time to digest the news that Maude was up on the nest - no sooner than he'd made peace with the situation did this happen.

This was found in the nest with Maude today.

Buddy isn't sayin' a word.

Ooooooo girl, that bird got some 'splainin to do!  Mmmmhmmmm.

Riveting News

This morning I woke up feeling like the day was a brand new doll, still in it's box, with it's head wrapped in cellophane.

I so didn't want to mess it up.

So -

I'm dressed.

As in pants.

I'm not responsible for my hair at this moment, cause I have a hair appointment on Tuesday - so we'll address it then.

I bought gas today.

Filled the dang tank up.

$61.22

Spent about the same on a week's worth of groceries, that seemed to fit in three bags.

Clam juice is in my house.

The thought of it makes me gag. 

I have no idea why I put "Creole Fish" on the menu for the week, like I'm gonna eat that stuff!

Realized that I feel the need to explain some of my grocery purchases to the check-out girl.

I needed to make it known that the instant mashed potatoes were indeed for a bread recipe.

I worried about the dried milk as well - would she think I was REALLY going to drink it?

Once she scanned the Velveeta, I quit apologizing.

At least there was no Cool Whip in sight.

It's 4:30 up in the afternoon and my work for the day is done.

I've worked myself so silly this week that my right arm is rendered useless.

I'll spend the afternoon feverishly knitting slippers and sewing pajamas.

All in preparation for a very important event.

An event so earth shaking, the blog world will never be the same.

If you are a casual reader - make sure ya'll check back here next week.

And pray that I finish my pj's and knit TWO slippers.

For her sake.

An image I found too disturbing not to share whilst Googling for dolls in boxes.

I really have no words.

The Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous

I'm not getting such an early start today my friends.

It's up near 8am and I'm still un-coffeed and in my nightgown.

My housework is done, and I just finished my To Do List for the day.

It involves washing a lot of windows, and hopefully painting some.

Moisturizing.

Can you believe I had to put moisturizing on my list of things to do?

I'm losing a little weight, and my skin seems to be deflating.

It's painfully dry.

And wrinkly.

I also had to put 'get dressed' on my list.

Seriously?

Are you one of those fabulous women that just automatically get dressed in the morning?

I'm not.

I will seriously be in my nightgown and Life is Good hoodie all day unless I pass a mirror and realize I'm not dressed.

I will actually be out washing windows like this if I'm not careful.

Dressing, hair brushing - things like that just don't come natural to me anymore since I'm not out among the English much.

I'm slipping down a slippery slope into a world where I have to make notes to tell myself to dress and moisturize.
Good times.

A Psalm for Apples

Photo courtesy of Lost Forest After Dark

It's apple time up here in Northwest Indiana.

I can think of nothing finer.

The trees in the orchards are hanging low with the weight of the harvest.

My little gnarly apple tree produced well this year.

I call it my Tree of Good Intentions.

Every year I intend to prune it and spray it.

Every year I don't.

Every year I pull off enough gnarly apples to make a crisp and a pie or two.

This morning I got carried away with the splendor of life and baked this beauty.

She tastes as good as she looks.

A good crumb to fruit ratio is really important to me, as it is to you, I'm sure.

This crisp has a bottom layer of crumb.

Yes, you read that right.

It takes it to a 'ho notha level'


Whilst baking it, I vacuumed (of course I did) and drank in the breeze coming through the windows.
I noticed the changing shadows on the floor - it's getting late in the year. I cleaned the fridge out    and blessed the birds with a lot of treats - and the worms too.


I said a prayer for Aaron at school and Glenny at work.
I thanked God for my life.


As soon as it cooled enough, I took a bite.


I spontaneously burst into song, and then wrote this Psalm, in praise of the apple.

A Psalm written for the apple, by Jayme Goffin, Psalmist and Chicken Whisperer

                           
Praise ye the apple! Praise it on the tree, praise it in the hand.
   Praise ye the apple in the bowl, and in the oven too -
      For the Lord our God has created it, and it is good, real good.


  Blessed be it's crispness, blessed be it's bite - blessed be your tree, without blemish or blight.
Blessed be your family when ye shall make a crisp and serve it warm from the oven, they shall rise up and call you blessed!

We thank Thee for your goodness that you graced us with apples.

   Surely, brown sugar and cinnamon will follow me for all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the land of the orchard forever.

Apple Crisp

1 cup flour

3/4  cup oatmeal

1 cup brown sugar

1 t. cinnamon

1 stick of cold butter

Mix the above until well mixed and crumbly.  Press half of this mixture onto the bottom of a greased 8 x8 or 9 x9 pan.

Top with four cups of chopped apples.

In a small saucepan, combine one cup of sugar, 2 T cornstarch.  Mix.  Add one cup of water.  Bring to a boil and cook until it become clear-ish and thick.  Add 1 t. vanilla.

Pour this mixture over the apples, and top with the remaining oat/flour mixture.

Bake at 350 until it is brown and bubbly.

Look to the Bees

I spent part of my Labor Day weekend scrub brushing and power washing the garage.

Sadly, this made me incredibly happy.

Why is it when it's a gorgeous day outside, the first thing my mind goes to is "what a great day to work!"

My Aunt Gladys would be so proud of me. The cleanest woman that has ever lived.

She had a freezer in her garage just for garbage.

So it wouldn't smell by the time the garbage man came.

True story.

Whilst scrubbing this side of the garage, I decided to thin out my red daylilies and plant some all along here. Thought it would look so pretty against the white.

Then - I thought what a great place to line up my beehives.

I should have six by this time next year.

I can just picture the pretty hives all lined up with red daylilies among them.

Now, pay no attention to the fact that nearly a half a million bees would be a few steps away from you as you pulled in the driveway.

I personally don't see that as a problem.

The bees have me mesmerized, and scared fecal-less.

As I walk to what I call my 'BeeYard' which is nothing but a weedy patch with a few pumpkin vines growing and two hives, I repeat my mantra.

"It's just a slight burning sensation with some localized swelling"

"It's just a slight burning sensation with some localized swelling"

And then I give them a stern, yet loving admonishment that I'm there to help them.

I like to think that it's working.

Only two stings this year - so far.

Sadly it doesn't appear that I'll be harvesting any honey this year, unless I want to endanger the hive's starvation through the winter.

I just can't do that to the little things.

They've worked so hard for what they have.

It's my first year, I'm told not to be too surprised that there isn't any honey.

But, I must say - I am disappointed.

Do I have slacker bees?

Better than killer ones I suppose.

I thought alot about the bees while I was cleaning the garage and planning on how I would ask Glen if he minded several hundred thousand bees next to 'his' garage.

I like to think that I'm like a bee.

Busy - a bit ocd about the hive.

A good team worker.

Tireless in doing good.

Sweet.

It's things I try to be.

Oftentimes I scold myself for what I'm not.

I have friends that honest-to-Pete wanted to be nurses when they were young girls, and now, at nearly 60 years old - that is what they are, and have been since college.

I shake my head in wonderment.

Or friends that can decorate a room and leave it that way - like - forever.

Seriously.

I on the other hand still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.

See - it's the growing up part I guess I haven't gotten down yet.

I've never wanted to be the Queen Bee - I'm more than happy being a nurse bee, or a worker bee. I'm more than happy being a support to my friends and family. I'm more than happy to hopefully be a little sweetness in their lives.

I used to believe that God had a perfect plan for each of us, and I'm still not convinced that I don't believe it.

I always searched for mine.

Felt like I was missing it.

But I think I've been doing it all along.

Whether it's been homeschooling, or tending chickens, or working at Starbucks (a girl can dream) - I'm part of a colony of life - and I show up, and try to do my part, and laugh and love.

I can't think of a better vocation.

Breaking News From Up in My Chair

This just in.

And I do mean just in.

Or really, just out.

Of the oven.

At almost 9pm in the night.

My day's been a bit cattywompus.

I may or may have not been up til 3am making wedding photo collages.

On my new laptop!

I apologize for spending the money - I do. I don't know why I do, but I do.

I really needed a new computer. What took an hour Friday night on Picnik takes three minutes now.

Do you have any idea how fast blogging is now?

I'll be letting you know every time I burp or trim my nails now.

Seriously.

I ended up sleeping in til 9 o'clock up in the morning today.

The chickens were furious.

The Italian Banty Mob let me know in no uncertain terms.

I'm scared.

The duck - well - see for yourself.

Where was she scurrying off to?

I will let you know how the new Pasta with Italian Sausage and Beans is just as soon as I get hungry and can eat some.

I am not staying up late tonight. No, I'm not.

Seriously.

I'm up in my chair.

My cozy chair, with my feet up on ottoman, in the living room.

Glenco is watching VH1 Classic Greatest 1 Hit Wonders of 1980.

And that's the latest from the Coop ....stay tuned.

I need to know what you think of the new blog format-?

I'm going to be changing the banner as soon as I get around to it too.

Cherry Vanilla Muffins

Ok, I know what you are thinking - I'm posting a lot. Bear with me. The house is still in semi-shambles. Bikes still up in the kitchen. I've been sitting here with Picnik editing photos and pulling my hair out. I'm a minute away from buying a new computer. A girl can only take what a girl can take. I'm working on the wedding photos that Aaron took. Each picture is taking nearly an hour to edit, because the computer isn't responding. Deborah, I do need alcohol!

I've made a big decision today - I'd been trying to decide if I should quit blogging or not. I've decided not to. Not to quit that is - so - I'll be around here - but I am going to revamp the blog.

I think I'm just going to post recipes here for a few days until I get the re-do done. I'll start with the Cherry Muffins, then I'll give you a few of my favorites, including the mac and cheese and Lemon Butter Snaps. K? Does this sound ok? Thanks for sticking with my as I go through the change.

Speaking of the change - I haven't had but one or two more hot flashes. One felt like my scalp was being over processed by perm solution. An odd sensation indeed.

Before I share the recipe, let's talk about muffins a little. I'm assuming that you bake, and maybe know these tips. If you do, scroll on down to the recipe, if not, read this, it will really help.

Don't even think about using an electric appliance anywhere near your muffins. You really want to do it all by hand. You aren't making cake, you are making muffins. You don't want to incorporate a lot of air into the batter. I actually imagine that it is some nuclear mixture that will explode unless I treat it with the utmost care. I kid you not. I mix it so gently, barely getting it mixed at all.

You should also have an oven thermometer and make sure that your oven is correct. Disasters may ensue if you think you are baking at 350, and your oven is really at 400.

I like using an ice cream scoop to insure that my muffins are uniform. I also do not like using cupcake liners on muffins. It's just my preference, but I like having a nice browned crust on my muffins.

Without further adieu, the recipe. If you don't have access to cherries, try looking in the freezer section. I think they sell sour cherries there.

This recipe is from an old friend, Debbie C. She once gifted me a small stack of handwritten recipe cards tied with a bow. I still remember it as one of my favorite gifts.

Cherry Vanilla Muffins

Makes 12.

Preheat oven to 400.

2 1 /4 cups of flour

4 t. baking powder

1/2 t salt

3/4 cup of sugar

2 cups of sour cherries

1 egg, beaten

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 c. of milk ( I prefer using 1/2 cup regular milk, and 1/2 cup buttermilk)

1 T vanilla

Sift your dry ingredients together, mix in your cherries. Set aside.

Mix your wet ingredients together.

Mix the wet and dry together GENTLY! Remember the nuclear theory!

Bake about 12 minutes (longer, if you've used frozen cherries). Again, I just look and can tell when the muffins are done. Look for a golden brown muffin, that seems a bit firm when poked.

Cool, and glaze with a mixture of powdered sugar, milk and vanilla. I don't have a recipe for that, I just plop about a cup of powdered sugar in a bowl, add about a teaspoon of vanilla, and then enough milk to make a drizzle - fo - schnizzle.

What Happens When There's Time On My Hands

Let me just tell you that the romance between the cat and duck isn't cooling off.

Oh, they try to act all nonchalant and stuff.

It's just so obvious.

Maude hasn't even checked her email.

Today, a lovely, wisheverydaycouldbelikethis kinda day -

big plans.

Then - I saw a lot of cobwebs on the front porch.

I planned on just doing a quick job, going over things.

Then.

Well.

Then I didn't like how the furniture is too close to the color of the walls.

And then I didn't like anything.

And then I tore the whole room apart.

I didn't like how the dollhouse blocked the windows anymore.

I miss the rug that I put in the office.

Then I started digging in the room of merchandise.

Things I've bought, and no longer know what to do with.

Pictures, lamps, do dads.

And now I've just got one big mess on my hands.

And I just want to drive to the Tastee Top and come home and find everything back in place.

Glenny's not being a lick of help.

Said it was all fine to start with.

And then I moved this curb side dresser into the office, changing everything all up.

Glenny won't give me his opinion cause he said I'll change it all again in a few months.

My bikes were on the front porch.

They don't belong there.

They are much better in the kitchen don't you think?

So - a few hours ago - I had a perfectly fine - clean house - and a few cobwebs on the porch.

Now - my kitchen, office and front porch are a mess.

And I still have a wheelbarrow of weeds in my front yard.

Seems I can't finish anything these days.

His fault.

My Day in Pictures

I was going to title this blog post

"The Mother Lode of All Drivel"

Empty your bladders and refill your drink cups.

Take a visual journey with me, if you would.

'A Day in the Life of Das Coopinkeepa'

I woke up to rain.

Glorious, much needed rain.

I must say, it didn't help my pensive mood, but more fed it.

I'd planned to do yard work all day - so now what?

I realized today that for the first time in my adult life - I'm talking since I was 14 - that I've had a weekday day that was my own. No job, no babysitting, no parent-sitting, no home business, no homeschooling.

Just me. Doing whatever I wanted.

Within reason - of course!

Well, I just had my morning coffee as usual, did my morning chores.

Whilst I drank my coffee, I read this.

Not the whole thing, silly.

I put on some music that I hadn't listened to in a long time, and friends - we had some church up in here!

I slapped a few more rows on this dishcloth.

I'm obsessed with dishclothes.

I can't stop knitting them.

I cain't.

I won't.

I had several nice phone conversations today.

I don't avoid the phone as much lately.

Could be a good thing.

Read me emails.

Please know, that your comments come to my email, and I read them about five times before I delete them. I do indeed.

Love 'em.

Thanks to my morning coffee, which is four shots of espresso and a cup of milk, I had me some 'issues' in the bathroom. Seems I've up and gotten meself a bit lactose intolerant.

It's a crap shoot - (pun intended) some days my morning milk bothers me, somedays it doesn't.

I bought soymilk today.

Really? You want more? I'm just getting started.

I baked some cherry vanilla muffins for the little lady that I met, when I went to go see her house on Sunday - that I thought I was going to buy.

Oh my goodness gracious, it's a long story - suffice it to say, I love that lady, and she's my new best friend. I brought her muffins and eggs today and we chatted. She's ill, and so is her husband. Heartbreaking - but what a spirit of hope and faith about her.

I really wanted to take her picture, but I didn't want to have to explain the whole blog thang.

These are the muffins pre-drizzle.

Fo schnizzle.

I baked the boy child his favorite cookies.

Lemon Butter Snaps.

I wore my new 'Eat Pray Love' inspired flowy yoga looking top.

I even put makeup on, and chose a bright lip color.

I curled me eyelashes.

Mmmmhmmm.

Whilst I was out shooting my pouty lips, the mob showed up.

Demanding treats.

See that hose?

It's the only reason my grass is green.

Watering things 24/7 here.

Oh you pitiful, comical thing you.

I always feel so bad when it rains, this bird looks dreadful.

I used to blow dry it, but it's not too fond of that anymore.

Can't you just see a gold chain around this bird's neck!?

Italian I tell you! Italian!

I gave them some of Roy Thurman's melon.

I used to eat two melons all by myself everyweek.

I used to think it was ok to binge on melons - I mean - it's melon.

Guess what? Overeating is overeating.

Don't make no never mind whatcha be overeatin'.

The birds got a lot of melon this week.

Here's Vinny - struttin' his stuff.

Of course, I had to give the big birds some too.

Another shot of the Sopranos.

I walked to the corner.

And back.

1.2 mile

A nice little 'get your blood pumping' walk.

Join me?

Here's the house next door - just in case you are interested in being my neighbor.

I hope you like muffins and eggs.

And crowing roosters and 4am.

And spontaneous bursts of song.

And bacon.

I always walk to, and touch the stop sign.

Getting close.

Every single time I walk, someone stops and asks me if I need help.

I usually reply 'not the kind that you can give me'

No, I really don't say that - I just say I'm out for exercise, and they mosey on.

There we go.

Some hillbilly shot the sign.

Seriously - hillbillies are so predictable.

You sure can feel September in the air.

One of my favorite months.

Summer is still clinging, but fall is callin'.

I always, and I mean always find random objects.

This is a children's Bible story book.

Ironic to me, that the story that changed the world lies here on the side of the road amid the rubble.

Ain't that just like Him?

A shoe.

Not an old grungy shoe.

But a nice shoe.

A business man, nice shoe.

I got the heebie jeebs but quick.

How does one lose ONE shoe on the road?

I'll tell you how.

Kidnapping.

Extortion.

Murder.

I hope my chickens didn't have anything to do with the devilment that shoe represents.

I caught my kitty mid-meow when I got back.

Splash a little cold water on your face.

I'm hitching up the buggy and going to town.

It's still early! The day is just getting started.

Notice my fuel tank.

Notice how many miles I have until I'm parked on the road.

The conundrum at hand.

I want to go to Grace's house (little old lady I've befriended) and deliver cherry muffins.

She's four miles east.

Gas station is four miles west.

Everything in me wanted to turn east, but I played it safe and headed west for gas and groceries, and then to Grace's.

I know - I'm disappointed in myself too.

I bet I could have made it.

I do this ALL the time.

Despite the icy cold fountain drinks, delicious snacks and the smell of gasoline, I hate going to gas stations.

It's just inconvenient.

Now, the gas station is only four miles away - but look - it took 9 miles of my gas!

While the gas was pumping, it began to rain again.

Success! No need to visit a gas station again for 220 miles.

Next stop - the bank.

I was so hoping that Jake was working, cause he is a doll and a half and has a smile that could power the whole town of Lowell.

Grocery shopping next....

Do you see what I see?

Whilst grocery shopping, I felt a hunger pang, so I found something that sounded good.

Thick and creamy Key Lime Yogurt.

Obviously, I'd forgotten all about my lactose discomfort.

Spoonless, I tried in vain to suck out the thick creaminess.

Prettiness spotted on the way in the back door.

Did the bills.

I do the Ramsey envelope system.

Loves it.

Spent the afternoon with Glenco and the kitchen.

Made homemade mac and cheese.

Favorite food #2.

Why in the name of me don't I make this more often?

Butter lettuces with real buttermilk ranch dressing.

Folks, when you are really hungry, and you eat - slowly - purposely - food is divine.

I made Glenco a tuna stuffed tomato.

I only make these when the tomatoes are coming out of the garden.

I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole, but Glenny likes them.

Sista Cindy (Aaron's mom) stopped by to pick up a cupcake tin.

I gave her a casserole dish full of mac and cheese.

I went to Aaron's apartment and picked him up for Gymnastics.

I thought it would be a good time to visit with him, and bring him his cookies.

I haven't seen the child since - gulp - Tuesday!

We chatted endlessly.

He's loving school. Making so many new friends.

Being all popular and funny.

My new blog found friend Cheryl met us at Gymnastics and kept me company whilst Aaron did his thang.

I have some serious love for this lady.

I dropped the boy child off at 10pm. It's now 11:15pm and I'm heading to bed Fred.

I'm so looking forward to tomorrow.