Tilly's Final Chapter...

...I think.

Dear Tilly, I believe

that you are about to leave us.

Reduced to a pitiful puddle,

it may be time to say,

"Farewell, you amazing rosy orb."

Your youthful blush has faded.

I am sad to report that your Bloom is quite gone.

Speed on Little Giant of Hope

and Amazingness.

Sometimes if we are lucky,

it is the small and unexpected surprises

from Mother Nature that give us such pleasure

and a sense of wonder.

Farewell,

Little Atilly the Hun.

You've been grand and fun.

best, e.

To Whom It May Concern

Dear Anonymous,

I am deeply sorry that you believe that I would have

intentionally and violently

killed the dog who killed my chickens.

I did write that I wished I had had

a very large baseball bat.

Would I have used it on the dog?
No.
Would I have yelled and beat the ground with the bat?
Yes.

Was I angry at the dog?
Yes.

Violence, cruelty and intentional retribution

make me physically ill...

especially when it is directed towards

other living creatures.


Some people might find it amusing
to watch me picking worms up off the gravel
and putting them back in the damp earth,
or trying to catch spiders in the house
to let them loose outside. 


Is there anything I don't mind hitting and hurting?
Yes.
Flies.


Am I a saint?
Good grief, No.


Do I ever want to strike out?
Yes.
Do I act on that anger?
No.


I know that you will probably never read this,
but if anyone else does,
who interpreted my words as you did,
perhaps this will make things clearer.


It certainly is a reminder to me
to be more thoughtful in how my words
come together here,
and in how I interpret the words
of others.
That is a good lesson for me
and I thank you....
truly, I do.
I wish you well.

Poor Representations...

...but pretty, non the less.

Wishing all a wonderful week.

best, e.

I Know There Is Wordless Wednesday...

...Here is Mute Monday...

not much.

Beauty sky.

Love to all.

best,e.         

       

Tilly, Part Two...

As you can see,

Tilly the Pet Tomato continues to astound her keeper.

I am beginning to feel a bit concerned

about Tilly.

Her energy, her determination,

and her aggressiveness

is becoming nothing less than an exercise in

Intimidation.

Day by day I am posing the question,

"Just who is in charge here?"

Some of you may recall

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.

I am wondering if I should

lock the bedroom door

at night?

One son has suggested

that Tilly is genetically modified.

I do know that she is a Hot House Tomato On the Vine

Tomato.

I passed up the corn on the cob,

the cukes and zukes, the broccoli,

the lettuces and avocados today

at the grocery store.

If you do not hear from me in the next week,

it will be too late for you to dial 911.

I offer my sincerest thanks in advance

for any rescue moves you may endeavor

to make on my behalf.

May I leave you with

a cautionary blessing;

Beware what you bring into your home.

best, e.

Just Outside My Door

Taken yesterday when we actually saw the sun...

...now and then.

Today the wind is chasing itself,

the rain is sometimes straight down,

sometimes sideways.

I have been trying to photograph

the beautiful wild goldfinches.

Taking pictures through dirty windows,

trying to capture flying objects,

may be an exercise in futility.

If any of them turn out, I shall post them later.

Wishing you a good day.

best, e.

Chickie News

Here are two of the fast growing babies

I brought home over a week ago.

There are two Wellsummers, two Production Reds,

and two Buckeyes.

They all lay beautiful brown eggs.

Our flock has diminished over the last few years.

Last week a dog traveled across the pastures

and killed two of my beloved hens.

Carmen was the first to go.

She was such a sweetheart and gave us gigantic eggs.

The other chicken lasted a few days...

she was missing lots of feathers,

but seemed as if she would be o.k.

It was not to be.

I know full well that these things do happen,

but I wish I had known the dog was here,

and I wish that I had had a very large baseball bat in hand.

Not all of our remaining hens are still laying.

Old age, I would guess. 

Retirement is allowed after working so hard for us.

I do want you to look at the following shot.

It gives me such giggles.

These mini eggs were produced

several weeks ago...a warm up

perhaps to Spring production.

That little bird nest is less than three inches across.

The blue egg is from Mrs. Charles Dickens.

I don't know which hens popped out the other two.

Too funny!

Three eggs do not an omelet make in this case.

Be well, stay safe.

best, e.