Cyber Monday (?)

My cousin F told me that the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend is called Cyber Monday because everyone does most of their on-line shopping on this day. Have I been living in that much of a bubble? I've never heard of Cyber Monday. Nor did I spend any part of today shopping on line.

We drove up to College Station today.... my husband was in search of a part for his computer, after discovering a virus had attacked his machine at five o'clock this morning. Gets him crazy, that people will take that much time to make those virus things...... he can fix the problems, but it takes a good amount of time to do it, and all those hours are just wasted. This town doesn't have any big computer outlets, so College Station was the closest place to try... and even they didn't have what he needed. It will have to wait till he drives into Clear Lake. Until then, he's using his older, slower computer, which is virus-free.

The Hullabaloo Diner is closed on Mondays, so we couldn't go there for lunch. We tried one of the Chinese restaurants up there, and it was pretty good. Good for Texas Chinese food, that is.... not good for NY Chinese food. After you've had Chinese food in NY, nothing else can compare. Unless, of course, you travel to China, I would imagine. We went to San Francisco years ago, and everyone told us they had the best Chinese food there, but we both thought that NY's Chinese restaurants were much better. (My apologies to San Francisco.)

Neighbors J & J came over for tea and cake tonight..... they brought us the cinnamon cake yesterday, as a thank-you to my husband for wrapping up their water pipes while they were away for Thanksgiving. J told my husband he will now have to re-wrap some of their other pipes because the ones that my husband did were perfectly neat and precise.

We've been talking about Christmas here..... telling J & J about our parties back at the old house. J nearly fell out of her shoes when we told her about our big parties with live music, 12-ft-trees, and 50 friends and neighbors coming together for a holiday Open House. J is not big on entertaining, and she gets very nervous and anxious when just a few people come to her house. She said she would have to run away from home if 50 people were invited to her house.

At least we're talking about a holiday party now..... so maybe we'll end up having one after all. (I'm waiting for my husband to tell me But the party won't be the same....)

After turkey day.....

We went to Lowe's on "Black Friday" (I hate that phrase).... to buy a new refrigerator for the pantry. The previous owners left a stand-up freezer in there, which was fine while it lasted, but I never had it filled up more than one-third of its capacity. Wasted space inside that freezer, but we used it till it died. And it took its last gasp a couple of days before Thanksgiving. (Why do appliances always die before a holiday or just before a party?)

My husband was surprised that I didn't want to buy another big freezer. What I really wanted was just a regular fridge, with a freezer on top. That's all the extra freezer space we need, plus (and better!) we'd have more refrigerator space. All those years at the old house, I wished we had more space in the laundry room..... with all the parties we had in that house, an extra fridge would have been terrific to have in there.

I was happy that old freezer took its last breath.... so we went to Lowe's and picked out another Whirlpool, freezer on top, fridge on the bottom. No ice-maker, so we're not losing room in the freezer part, and the shelves in the fridge part are wide and deep..... plenty of room to put large bowls and trays when we're having company here. Perfect, perfect. My husband can't understand how I can be so happy about having an extra fridge in that pantry.


Our friends K & B came here for lunch today...... they drove in from Houston and spent the afternoon. I made salmon cakes and zucchini pie... they brought a huge bowl of salad and a carrot cake. The salmon cakes were a big hit..... sort of like the salmon burgers that I've been making, except these were coated with crushed pecans and baked. K & B originally wanted to go into town and have lunch at one of the little cafes, but I told K over the phone that we'd have a better meal right here in our dining room. With all the delicious ethnic restaurants in their Houston neighborhood, we knew that the restaurants here just wouldn't be a good choice.

Usually, K & B are out of town for most of the month of December, so I had their Christmas gifts wrapped and ready for them today. When we realized that they would be in town, and we could see them for Christmas, I told them both to just ignore the wrapped packages. Santa will save them for next month when it's really Christmas-time. I guess we're just so used to them being away for the holiday, and we've always exchanged holiday gifts during Thanksgiving week.... (Santa just can't keep up with their changing schedules.)

Beautiful day today.... sunny and fairly warm. The cold snap has snapped itself out, and tomorrow morning my husband will re-connect the outside hoses again. "No frozen pipes on my watch," is what he's been saying every time he listens to the local weather reports.

Frozen pipes. That was this past January's headache. Been there, done that.

Thanksgiving

This morning started out at 78 degrees.... breezy, but warm and nice. It felt like Spring. I had the little TV in the kitchen tuned in to the NYC Macy's Parade, and when they broke in for the local news, the weather wizards said that the temperature up in Dallas dropped 30 degrees in less than two hours. That same cold front was heading our way. Oh goodie.

While the turkey was cooking, my husband drained the water pipes in the cottage and the barn, then turned off the water in both guest houses. He and W the handyman had insulated and wrapped up pipes this past week, just in case of a frigid cold snap. Our neighbors J & J drove to Virginia for Thanksgiving, so my husband called them up (the wonder of cell phones) and asked if their water was on or off, and could we do anything. Ditto for our neighbors who are in Pennsylvania now. Freezing temperatures that burst water pipes isn't a good thing, to say the least.

The wind is howling as I type. The temperature has dropped at least 20 degrees since lunch time. What started out as a Spring-like morning has turned into a blustery day worthy of a northern February night. Bah humbug to that.

As we were eating our Thanksgiving dinner this afternoon, my husband asked me what I was thankful for this year. I told him that I was grateful that we are both healthy, and have no major (or even minor) illness or disease that has changed or altered our lives.

I asked my husband what he was grateful for. His answer was one word: W (the handyman).

Surprise lunch.....

My husband told our handyman W not to bring his lunch today. Usually, W brings a sandwich, soda, and a bag of chips... same thing every day for his lunch. He either has his lunch at the table on the porch, or he'll sit in his truck and listen to the radio. W doesn't usually take more than half an hour at lunch-time..... just enough to have his sandwich and chips, then he smokes a cigarette and checks his cell phone. Back to work he goes. You can set your clock by W.

One of W's favorite things is a Domino's pizza, with chicken pieces, bacon bits, and ranch dressing. Not exactly my kind of pizza, but W told my husband that he loves it. They don't have a Domino's in the town where W lives, so when he treats himself to that pizza, he has to drive to the far end of our town to get it and bring it home. It was my husband's idea to give W a pre-Thanksgiving Domino's lunch, then pay him for the full day and let him go home early.

When I called Domino's last week, they told me at first that they didn't deliver this far out of town. I figured that...... so I asked to speak to the manager. I explained the problem to the manager, even offering to drive half-way into town to meet the driver. The manager said that because of Thanksgiving, deliveries this week wouldn't be as busy as a normal week. He told me if I would place the order two days before so he could get it into his computer, he would personally see to it that the two pizzas we were ordering would be first on the to-do list this morning, and first out the door in the delivery truck. Plus, no need to meet the driver half-way.

True to their word....... the Domino's delivery person was in our driveway at 11:30 this morning, just half an hour later than W's usual lunch-time of 11:00. We told W his surprise lunch would be ready between 11:30 and 12:00, and it certainly was. The look on W's face when he saw the Domino's delivery was priceless. And the look on his face when my husband paid him for a full day was even better.

The chicken/bacon/ranch pizza looked interesting..... not something that I'd want to try, but W loved it..... my husband tasted it....... and we gave W the left-over pieces of that pizza to bring home with him. The second pizza was half cheese, half meat.... my husband and I ate the lunch left-overs for dinner tonight.

It will be a quiet Thanksgiving here... just the two of us. We'll see K & B on Saturday, though... they're coming here for lunch. Last year, we had K & B as well as C & R here for the weekend before Thanksgiving, so we had an early turkey dinner so we could all be together.

I've already made the sweet potatoes..... boiled and peeled them, cut them into quarters and put them into a roasting pan. Tomorrow, they will get dotted with butter and sprinkled with brown sugar. My mother and my Aunt Dolly always made sweet potatoes that way, so I thought I'd go back to that recipe. I've tried sweet potatoes dozens of ways over the years--- all without marshmallows. I've never understood that-- melted marshmallows on top of sweet potatoes. Truly a southern thing, and everyone here swears by that recipe. Not for me, though.

Tomorrow, my husband will make the oyster dressing and the mashed potatoes. Usually, we make those the day before, but didn't see the need to do that since we won't have company tomorrow and we'll have plenty of time in the kitchen. K & B are bringing their Houston-famous pecan pie on Saturday, so I didn't even bake pies this week. There are enough sweets in this house as it is...... my cousin F sent us a box of petite Swiss desserts-- very tiny, but very rich.

Thanksgiving..... once again, the holidays are right here. Just 31 more days till Christmas. Each year goes by faster and faster.

Dancing With The Stars

Another great season of shows comes to a close....... and I have just one thing to say:

Somewhere up on a cloud, Patrick Swayze is smiling from ear to ear.

And then there were five...

My most-sensitive hen Mammy died in her sleep this afternoon. At least I think she was sleeping.... she couldn't stand up, her legs were too wobbly, and her breathing went from very quick breaths to very slow gasps.

Reading through my books on raising chickens, I doubt very much that she died because we brought two new hens into the coop. Even though she wasn't happy about that, she was eating and walking and running with the other hens, but just keeping herself away from the two new chickens. Last night, I read through the books...... they both had chapters on the frustration of old hens getting used to new hens, and the re-establishment of the pecking order. Mammy was never at the top of that order here, so that wasn't an issue.

The books did say that when a chicken is sick, she goes downhill very quickly and the end comes before some people even realize that there's a problem in the first place. This morning when I let the chickens out of the coop, Mammy was the last one out. She didn't run to the patch of grass underneath the bird-feeders, pecking the ground for dropped seeds--- the hens do that every morning. And when they don't find enough birdseed there, I scatter some on the ground for them so they won't fight over just a few left-over seeds. Mammy walked out of the coop this morning and looked at me. Again, I thought she was giving me "the eye" because she wasn't happy with the two new-comers. I walked over to Mammy and (wonder of wonders) she let me pick her up. She sat in my arms for a minute or so, not squirming to get down, but just sitting there and staring at me. It can be un-nerving at times because chickens can stare at you a good long while without blinking.

Before the morning was over, W the handyman told me that Mammy was under the cottage, all quiet and tucked into her feathers and just sitting there. I was going to ask him to try and get her out for me, but then thought the best thing to do was just let her be. After lunch-time, Mammy came out from under the cottage and sat herself down under the rose arbor near the back courtyard. Perfect chance for me to get her and put her into a crate, away from the other hens. If Mammy was indeed sick, the books suggested she be kept by herself. Solitary confinement for that poor chicken.

So that's where she spent her last few hours.... in a cat-crate, trying to breathe, and not even able to stand up on her legs. I kept checking on her every half-hour, and she had stopped breathing within two hours of being in that crate. For each of the hours that Mammy spent in the crate, each of the other hens walked up to it and peeked into the little door. Wondering why she was in there? Or did they know something was wrong and they were saying their good-byes? These chickens are all so sensitive, so very much aware of everything that goes on out in the yard.... it wouldn't surprise me in the least that the hens knew she was sick and wouldn't be going back into the coop tonight.

What to do with a dead chicken? I thought of putting her out in the woods, but then we thought that would attract wildlife looking for other not-so-dead chickens. You can't bury it because the wildlife will just dig up the remains. Nothing to really do but wrap her up and put her in the trash bin. And that's what I did... double-bagged, and hopefully her remains won't be too awful by the time the trash truck comes next week.

W the handyman said that Mammy could have been bitten by a snake... or maybe she ate a poisonous spider. Between snakes and spiders, heaven knows we have enough of those in these hills, so either could have been a possibility. We'll never know for sure, and it doesn't matter.

All the other hens seem just fine. They're eating and drinking water and running around chasing crickets and digging up worms. Everything seems to be just fine in their little feathered world. And the death of Mammy just means that each of the remaining five will have a little more room on the roosting bar in the coop tonight.

My husband suggested getting another chicken to replace her. I don't want to do that.... the other five hens are finally re-adjusting to their two new coop-sisters. Mammy hadn't been laying eggs anyway (not since May) so we still have three hens laying eggs on a daily basis. More than enough. (More than enough eggs. More than enough chickens to clean up after.)

"When Elephants Weep"

That was the title of a book I read a few years ago...... the man who wrote it made a years-long comprehensive study of animals, coming to the conclusion that all animals have emotions, it's merely the short-coming of mankind for not being able to recognize and understand those emotions. The author's name is Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson, and the book was incredible. It was hard for me to read through it without getting caught up in the angst of it all. I gave it to one of our friends when I finished it... I knew she would be able to read it without letting her emotional self pour onto every page.

I thought of that book yesterday because of Gatsby, our mostly-outside cat, and Mammy, our very sensitive chicken. Gatsby stays outside all day long when the weather is nice, which it almost always is..... and when the nights are warm, he likes being outside as well. The other night, he sat by that back door till I opened it for him, and out he went. It was nearly midnight when I opened the door, and I told him if he was choosing to go out at that time, then he was also choosing to stay out for the night. All I got in response was a loud meow and a wide-eyed look up at the door. Fine. Out he went.

The next morning, Gatsby was nowhere to be found. I called him and the only response I got was a clucking-cackling from the chickens. No Gatsby. Fine. He's done that before.... when he can't get back into the house when he's ready, he gets an attitude, and won't come to the porch when I call him. I figured that when he got hungry enough, he'd come out from under the guest cottage, which is his usual hide-out place. And that's what happened.... his kitty-tummy made him appear just before lunch time. As he walked up to the porch, he was limping.... I told my husband that he looked like Walter Brennan.

I let Gatsby into the house and he walked (limped) right into the TV room and ate his lunch, then jumped onto his favorite chair and slept for the entire day. Didn't move an inch, except to stretch out his paws as he turned his head when the sun started to shine through the window, aiming its rays at his face. He is such a sensitive cat, and he lets you know when he's not happy in his little cat-world. This morning, Gatsby was outside for most of the day again (not limping, by the way). This evening before dinner, as I was getting the chickens into the coop and locking them inside, Gatsby was upset with me because I wasn't paying much attention to him. I tried to explain to him that with Scarlett in my right hand, and a bag of bread in my left hand, there was just no arm left for me to pick him up. All the way to the coop, there was Scarlett in my arms, looking down at Gatsby with those yellow eyes of hers.

Gatsby doesn't want to be bothered by details (such as only having two hands), and he doesn't want excuses. His whiskers were in a knot over all of the above and now he's hiding out under the cottage again. Fine. Be that way. Come out when you're good and ready.

And then we have the sensitive chicken--- Mammy. She was very unhappy when we got the two new hens. For the first night, she put her head into a corner and wouldn't look at them. The second night in the coop with the new girls, she took her head out of the corner but wouldn't stand near the new-comers. I thought she had snapped out of all of that by the third day, but then on the very next day, she started putting her head into the corner again, not looking at the two new hens, and not walking next to them or eating in the same spot where they were. Give me a blessed break.

But then....... that book. Certainly, if elephants can mourn a loss of another elephant, and the cows on the other side of these hills can literally cry as they search for their calves who have been taken to market, then surely a chicken can be upset over the introduction of new hens to the coop. To look at Mammy, you would think she's an old-lady hen, the way she's moping around and walking slowly to keep herself away from Daisy and PittyPat (the newest hens). Mammy is not even two years old, so she should be as spry and as active as all the other chickens. But her emotions are getting in the way. She's missing out on the good veggies and bread and seeds that are being eaten up by the other hens. I have tried bringing food over to the spot where Mammy chooses to watch the other hens as they feast, but Mammy just sits there and looks at me with the saddest of faces. If I didn't know any better, I would swear that she's saying We were all just fine as we were! Why did you bring those two hens to our coop?!

Cats who give you an attitude. Chickens who give you guilt. Another day on the ranch.

Second Spring.

That's what we're having this month.... our second Spring. When we first moved to Texas in 1993, we were thrilled to have such warm temperatures from November through February, with just a few days of a cold snap tossed in here and there to make sure we were paying attention.

For the past few years, however, the weather wizards have tossed in more than a cold snap or two.... last year especially, when the entire state was under a "hard freeze" for two weeks, which kept every plumber in Texas on-call and busy for 18 hours of every day from December through the end of January. Being that we had our own experience with frozen and burst pipes outside, my husband has already insulated and wrapped the pipes that are above ground..... just in case a hard freeze pops up in the middle of the night.

Some of the rose bushes are in bloom again. Little patches of red against the fence in the back courtyard. The yellow roses on the cottage arbor have lost their blooms... those bursts of sunrise-yellow flowers don't last but a day or two, then they fall to the ground and the chickens walk over them and leave little scratches on those delicate petals.

Scarlett came running up to me as I was walking in the back courtyard after dinner tonight, on my way to the coop. She ran so quickly, then came to a screeching halt right by my feet and waited till I picked her up. Which of course I did...... and I carried her back into the coop. The other hens were already in there, and this isn't the first time that Scarlett has rushed out to meet me and then sat quietly in my arms for the walk back. She is such a sweet little thing.... seems that she knows my voice and comes running every time she hears me, and even the sound of the back screen door will have her rushing from the coop to the courtyard.

Next week.... Thanksgiving. Just the two of us on turkey-day, but we're seeing neighbors the day after, and having K & B here the day after that. Neighbors J & J are back east with family; neighbors B & G will be with family; S will be with family, especially now that D has passed away so recently. Once again, my husband and I talked about a Christmas party...... once again, my husband says that a party here just "won't be the same." No it won't.... it will be different.... but we can still have a party.

I'm not pushing it. He's probably right. We have our "regular" cast of neighbors that have become friends..... there are a few others that we could invite, but then they will bring children, and that changes the atmosphere of a relaxed party for adults. Be careful there... don't touch that... can we move this over there..... (And that is one thing I've never done: moved things when children are in my house. It was never done when I was a kid, and I never did it for anyone else's kids. I expect kids to listen when they're told Don't touch! and that's just that. I have a 1950s mind-set for that sort of thing, and I know that's just not the way these days.)

From now till the end of December, my husband and I will be talking about our Christmas parties back in Clear Lake, with our house filled with 45 friends and neighbors.... a dining room table filled with food, a live band in the living room, a Christmas tree so tall that it took days to decorate, and no one wanting to leave, even after the band had gone home.

I still say we should have a party here.......

Feathered friends.

All seems to be just fine today in The Coopacabana. Mammy has taken her head out of the corner, Audrey stopped screeching every time one of the new hens (Daisy or PittyPat) came near her, Scarlett let me pick her up today, and Prissy is back to her always-clucking self. Three eggs were laid today, a brown one from Scarlett, a beige-y tan one from Prissy, and a very light ivory-colored egg from either PittyPat or Daisy. We think that egg is from PittyPat because it's smaller than the others (and so is PittyPat).

Today was such a warm pretty day (after a very cool morning) that I decided to let the hens out of the coop this afternoon. Once I opened that gate, Prissy was the first to walk out, followed closely by Scarlett. After that, it was a hen parade, with everyone following Scarlett and Prissy around the yard. No clucking, no pecking at one another.... they were all so happy to get out and look for crickets and crawly things that they forgot about their squabbles.

Both Daisy and PittyPat quickly learned how to get back to the coop and they were in and out of the coop all afternoon. PittyPat loves to sit in the hay that's spread out in the little yard outside the chicken coop. PittyPat is such a pretty little thing, very delicate and ballerina-like, especially when she balances herself on one leg when she's resting. The sounds she makes are more quiet and gentle than the other hens..... no loud clucking has come from that little hen.

My friend V told me that I was upsetting the chicken cart by adding the two new hens--- How are they all going to learn Christmas carols? she wanted to know. (Such as "Cluck The Herald Chickens Sing") I told V that by taking the two hens from the neighbors, I might have saved them from a worse fate than having to get used to a new coop-- such as being presented on a serving platter surrounded by roasted potatoes and carrots.

Today on Oprah's show, her guest was Barbra Streisand (along with a surprise visit from Robert Redford). After they paid homage to "The Way We Were," Barbara showed the audience her sixteen-years-in-the-making dream house. And what did you see as soon as the gates to Barbra's property were opened up? Chickens! At least two dozen chickens, roaming free around her perfectly landscaped and flower-filled yards. (What you didn't see were the chickens scratching up the newly-planted flowers as they searched for crickets and beetles.)

But I'm sure Barbra has "people" taking care of both her property and her chickens...... and the water wheel, the pond, the pool, the jacuzzi, the main house, the guest house, the barn....

"Can't y'all just get along?"

We went to the neighbor's this afternoon and picked out two of her hens..... she was keeping the Rhode Island Reds, which was fine because hers all looked just like my Scarlett and I didn't want identical hens in the coop. She had some Araucanas to give away, but we already have two of those (Audrey and Mammy) and they're not great egg-layers. She also had some black hens (Minorcas) but we have one of those (Prissy).

There were a few Orpingtons to choose from.... they're the same size as the Rhode Island Reds, but they're lighter than the dark red of Scarlett, sort of a sunset-rust color... I picked one of those, and named her Daisy. Her coloring reminds me of the wild daisies that are in the fields with the bluebonnets. Then there was one gray/white Dutch Bantam hen.... so cute, about half the size of the larger hens, and she makes the sweetest little sounds. I picked her, and named her PittyPat (going with the Gone With The Wind names of Scarlett, Prissy, and Mammy).

The hens from the neighbor came across the road in a cat-crate, and we carried the whole crate into the coop. Welcome to The Coopacabana, girls! When we opened the door of the cat-crate, the two new hens just huddled up into the far corner, not interested in coming out. My husband had to practically turn the crate upside-down so the hens had no choice but to get on out of that crate.

Well....... you would have thought we brought a 300-pound gorilla into that coop. Our four "established" chickens raised such a fuss. Prissy kept clucking, Audrey was turning her head sideways to get a closer look at the new-comers, Mammy sat on the roosting bar and put her head into the corner and wouldn't even look at them, and Scarlett chased both Daisy and PittyPat around the floor of the coop. We had to separate the hens at least half a dozen times so they wouldn't peck at one another.

I went into the house to get some bread while my husband kept an eye on the chickens. Usually, white bread or cooked vegetables will get their attention. It didn't work so well this afternoon. Mammy kept her head in the corner, Audrey took some of the bread but wouldn't come off the roosting bar. Prissy and Scarlett ate some of the bread, and Scarlett let me pet her feathers, but most of the bread crumbs were left on the floor of the coop. The girls just weren't interested in a late-afternoon snack.

We stayed in there for over half an hour... moving the old wooden ladder from the coop yard right into the coop, to give the hens more choices of where to sleep. That roosting bar is about 12 feet long-- more than enough space for six chickens to share, but we couldn't convince our four hens to share some of that bar with the two new girls. At one point, Daisy flew up to the roosting bar, Scarlett clucked at her and scared her, which got Daisy trying to fly off the bar before she even got on the bar, resulting in Daisy getting stuck behind the bar so my husband had to rescue her before Scarlett was able to peck at her. The whole thing looked like something out of a Looney Tunes cartoon.

As it was getting dark, they all seemed to settle down. Mammy kept her head in the corner the whole time, but she didn't object when PittyPat cuddled up next to her. Both Prissy and Daisy decided they wanted to roost on the rungs of the ladder-- with Prissy taking the very top one to show her seniority. When I locked up the coop, everyone was quiet and seemed to be content in the sleeping spots of their choice.

For the next three days, I will have to keep all the chickens inside the coop and the little fenced-in yard just outside the coop. The "old" hens will have three days to realize that PittyPat and Daisy aren't going back across the road, and the "new" hens will have those three days to get used to their new coop-mates, as well as get used to their new coop.

The new chickens should be quite happy..... their old coop didn't have a solid roof, and all of the walls were fenced, not wood. I've got the two fenced walls covered with fabric and plastic sheeting so they won't get the cool winds for the next couple of months. They should all be very content in The Coopacabana, for goodness sake.

But.... there's that pecking order thing..... and bringing in two new hens has disrupted that. It shouldn't take long for the original four and the new two to get into some sort of chicken camaraderie that won't have feathers flying out there.

We've had a cloudy, rainy day today.... with low-flying hawks. My chickens never saw the outside of the coop today... it was at this time last year when we lost three hens to the hawks, so we're not taking chances this year. If the sun isn't shining, if it isn't a warm and pretty day, then the chickens will be confined to the coop and the tented side-yard outside the coop. The next couple of days aren't going to be much nicer.... perfect time for the six hens to stay inside and play nice.

Before the rain started today, we went out to lunch with J & J..... to the little 1950's-style diner at the private airport just outside of town. Waitresses wear poodle shirts with white blouses and saddle shoes... classic rock & roll music plays from the juke-box....... and the food is pretty good for a small restaurant that's tucked way out in the woods. J & J are heading east to Virginia tomorrow, to be with their daughter and her family for the Thanksgiving holiday. That's a long drive from here to there..... 1300 miles, I think they said, and it will take them three days.

I wouldn't mind a long road trip. I'd enjoy that much better than flying, but you really do need the time for all of that driving. I don't think I'd like that kind of a road trip at this time of the year, though.... you could drive right into a snowstorm, for goodness sake, once you got out towards the east coast. Not my idea of a good thing.

This rainy drippy weather isn't my idea of a good thing either. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the temperature goes up again, the sun comes out, the hawks go away, the rain quits, and the chickens snap out of it and get along just fine. In a perfect world...

No eggs for you....

Scarlett and Prissy are usually very good about their egg-laying.... an egg a day from each of those hens. Audrey and Mammy, however-- very picky about their decisions to lay an egg or not. Too hot? No way. Too windy? Maybe. Too cold? Give me a break. As a result, both Audrey and Mammy haven't laid eggs since the end of May. (You're fired!) -- Actually, another owner might have told them "You're fried!"

We don't use eggs every single day, so we've been getting along just fine with the two daily eggs from Scarlett and Prissy. I usually have a dozen eggs to spare in the fridge, along with the dozen that I'm using. When all four hens were giving us eggs (with Audrey on an every-third-day routine, and Mammy with her every-other-day schedule) that gave me a little more than a dozen eggs to spare, along with the dozen I was using.

Since we've had the chickens, I've been careful to use the oldest eggs first, keeping numbered egg-boxes in the fridge. My husband shakes his head at my numbered 1 - 6 boxes, but I know the system and it's working. I keep count of the eggs we get, and I know which hens are laying and which are temporarily on vacation.

This morning, our neighbor across the road asked if we would like some of her hens. Her husband, recently deceased, had bought 30 baby chicks around Easter-time, and now she has way too many hens. Her husband had given away the roosters a while back-- they were bothering the hens, and making way too much noise as they competed for first prize in their daily crowing contests.

Do we need more chickens? Not really. Four is enough... but only two are giving us eggs, and when we have company... and with holidays coming up... I know I'll be needing more eggs. Our four hens have already established their pecking order (and there really is a pecking order in every coop) and who knows how they would react to more chickens in The Coopacabana.

However...... two more chickens would be nice. And the neighbor's chickens are the same age as ours. If I can pick out two Rhode Island Reds, then I won't have to worry about running out of eggs. (That breed of hen is very good for egg-laying.) Once you have fresh eggs from your own chickens, you don't even want to consider buying a dozen eggs from the store.

Tomorrow afternoon, we will go and look at the neighbor's chickens. She will tell us which ones she wants to keep, and let us pick from the rest. If I can get two Rhode Island Reds that don't look exactly like Scarlett, then I will take them. We'll have to bring them back here in one of the cats' carrying crates, and then keep all six hens inside the coop for a few days. That way, everyone will get to meet-and-greet, the two new hens will get to know their new home, and then they can all go out into the yards together again.

Scarlett is the queen-of-the-coop out there, so she's going to have to put her little foot down in order to keep her crown after the new hens get here. The two new hens from the neighbor should have no complaints about their new coop.... two sides are solid wood, and the two fenced-in sides are now covered with fabric and plastic sheeting to keep out the cool breezes now that the hotter months are behind us. Plus, the little yard outside the coop is all tented-up with rain-proof fabric to keep them away from the prying eyes of low-flying hawks. What more could a chicken possibly want?

I guess I will have to start thinking of two more names...

Does Santa wear shorts?

As of this afternoon, all of the Christmas decorations are out of the closet and in every room of this house. I thought I was done a couple of days ago.... I hadn't put up the vintage silver tree, and I had decided that enough was enough and the living room really didn't need a third table-top tree. I talked myself out of that silver tree. However, the tea-table inbetween my two angel chairs was screaming out for something, and the brass-branched tree holding glass candy canes and gold reindeer just wasn't up for that kind of screaming.

The brass tree is now in the upstairs hallway, looking very elegant-- more so than it did downstairs in the living room. Out from the closet came the silver aluminum tree..... out came the box of vintage glass ornaments I always put on that particular tree. The tea-table which holds it now looks complete, and the angel chairs (circa 1930, with angel-brocade fabric) are now breathing a sigh of relief. Well, finally! She's got her act together!

Actually, even my husband thought I was a little "off" when I told him I wasn't going to put up the silver tree this year. But why not? That tree has a story to it! The story being that we found it on a very hot July day a bunch of years ago, in a barely air-conditioned resale shop in Texas City. The saleswoman was driving us a bit crazy because all the while we were looking in that store, she followed us around and just talked and talked and talked. I have no idea what she said because I tuned her out after the first five minutes. We were about to leave (my husband having given me "the eye" that he'd had enough of her twang-y chatter) and we saw that vintage aluminum tree and the color-wheel that went with it. I hadn't seen one of those in a shop ever, at that point, and the only one I remembered as a child was in my Aunt Jaye's living room back in NY. My aunt liked it because it didn't drop leaves like a real tree. The rest of the family thought anything but a real green tree was just sacrilege. But Aunt Jaye was (and still is) over-the-top with everything.

My husband and I bought that silver tree that day... along with the color-wheel.... for just $45 or something crazy like that. The saleswoman just kept talking and talking and I kept asking her "Is that your best price?" and she kept giving me $3 and $5 discounts till it was just a ridiculous price. I had intended to sell both the tree and the color-wheel at my own shop, but when I put that silver tree together, it just reminded me of the tree in Aunt Jaye's 1950s living room, and I even have a photo of me and my cousin T standing in front of that tree when we were five years old. I wanted to keep the tree... my husband didn't like it and wanted me to sell it.

We compromised. Sort of. I did sell the color-wheel (which I didn't want anyway), and I sold it for more than what we paid for both the tree and the wheel. That first Christmas with the silver tree, everyone who came to our holiday party wanted their pictures taken in front of that vintage aluminum tree. It became the talk of that party because a lot of people down here had never seen a silver tree before. I guess those trees were city-trees. The tree has been with us ever since, either in the dining room or the living room... and with all those sparkling silver branches and all those colorful glass ornaments, none of our cats have ever bothered it. And to think that this year, someone didn't want to put it up.....

With the inside of this house looking like a store-wide Christmas display, the weather outside has been Spring-fantastic. Some of the rose bushes are in their second blooming, the birds are splashing in the bird-baths every morning, and the hens are squawking their chicken-hearts out after they've laid their eggs. Surely, this is not exactly Santa-weather. And the elves must be awfully hot in their red and green velvet britches. There must be a summer wardrobe for Santa and his elves, don't you think? Red shorts for all, minus the velvet and the fur?

The eBay pages tell me that there are 45 days till Christmas. eBay is reminding everyone of that count-down not to get everyone into the holiday spirit, but to get everyone bidding and shopping and buying. Now that the decorations are up here, I've been wrapping gifts every day. Looking at the little piles of Christmas gifts which have become part of the decorations in my dressing room, this is the time of the year when I say We have way too many cousins in this family!

But Christmas is for the kids... and as my cousin F says-- everyone needs to be a kid at Christmas, no matter their age. Jingle bells to that.

Out with the pumpkins....

.... and in with the Santas. That's what I've been doing since the first of this month-- packing away the happy porcelain pumpkins and ghosts, the witches (smiling ones, not at all frightful) and the black cats (excluding Mickey Kitty). Instead of taking the ornaments off of the purple and black Halloween tree, I just put it in the closet just as it was, up on a high shelf and away from the always-decorated table-top Christmas trees.

That huge closet connected to the bathroom of the TV room has been a life-saver in this big old house. With careful planning and placement, the interior of that walk-in closet has become like a jig-saw puzzle. It holds all of the holiday decorations, from the largest five-foot Nutcracker to the teeniest one-inch pumpkin. With all the parties we used to give, I have three white feather trees decorated with green shamrocks for St. Patty's Day, red and pink hearts for Valentine's Day, and pink and yellow chicks and bunnies for Easter. No holiday went un-decorated in whichever house we've lived in, and through the years, the decorations just multiplied. How that happened, I have no blessed idea, of course.

Each day now since November 2nd, I've been taking out the Christmas decorations. Santas are in all the rooms of the first floor, table-top trees are in every room, sparkling stars and golden angels are coming out, and my dad's Nativity set is already up in the living room. This is the second year I've had that manger, and as I set it up, I can still see myself as a little kid, playing with the sheep while watching The Mickey Mouse Club. The 1950s silver tree isn't up yet, and all the angels aren't out of the closet (now there's a strange phrase for you).

My cousin F asked me if all of my decorations go in the same places every year. As if I could remember where they were the year before? Some trees do go on the same tables each year, just because they fit better, but that's about it. The Santas and the angels end up in different places every year, and most of the table-top trees get a different view of the house from one Christmas to another.

The little tree that's on my desk here with the laptop is a green feathery tree that I put into an antique teacup one year. At the top is a very small angel from the 1940s, and there are pearls, crystals, and tiny fans dripping from all the branches. Except for that angel (that I found on eBay), everything else came from yard sales over the years. Somehow, they all worked together and the result is such a pretty little tree that looks like it's been to every Christmas since 1946.

I have promised myself that I wasn't going to do an eBay search on "vintage Christmas" this year. There are more than enough Christmas decorations in this house, and still in the closet waiting to make their appearance. Each year as I take out holiday decorations, I look at each thing and decide if it should be kept or donated. So far, the only things that went into the donation bag were some un-used red and white pillar candles.

But I'm not done yet. Surely there must be other decorations gathered at yard sales and thrift shops that can find new homes this year. But not the Santas. Or the angels. And certainly not the gold-sparkly 1950s reindeer that I found at the thrift shop just last year....

If anyone is interested... there are now just 48 days till Christmas.

Cars in the night......

I knew something was wrong last night when I saw so many cars going up the hill towards our neighbor's house. D had been sick for a while now, and the outcome wasn't going to be a happy ending.

On any given night, there are no cars on the road outside, unless one of the neighbors are driving home after a late night out (which doesn't happen often). At around 10:30 last night, the first car went up the hill. Ten minutes later, another car. Half an hour later, a truck..... ten minutes later, another truck. The driveway lights were on across the road, as well as most of the lights around the house.

The neighbors here are not the sort to have company coming to their homes at such a late hour. I guessed that the unhappy ending had come for D, and we found out this morning that he had passed away in his sleep. He was a good neighbor to us, especially when we first moved up here. D had all the answers for the plumbing system, the well-water and the pumps, the property lines, the neighbors' livestock. He warned us about the coyotes and the bobcats, and told us repeatedly to buy a gun because sooner or later something would come onto our property that we would need to shoot.

The little community here called him The Mayor because he would drive his golf-cart to all the other properties, nearly every day.... saying hello, giving out eggs from his chickens, seeing what was new on the other side of the hills. This morning, I took some eggs from our own chickens and baked a coffee cake to bring to D's wife. That's what everyone does here when someone dies..... food is brought to the family.

When my husband was building our chicken coop, D came over from time to time to check on the progress. He laughed at me when I asked him if the chickens would be too cold during the winter months...... he laughed when I told him that I use thrift-shop wallpaper underneath the roosting bar, to make the coop easier to clean every morning. He told me that my chickens would be spoiled, being in such an up-town coop.

I guess we won't be seeing that golf-cart riding along the road anymore. And now, D really knows what's on the other side of the hills. He passed away in his own home, in his sleep. Honestly, we should all be so lucky.

Day after Halloween.

We spent last night playing cards with neighbors J & J.... we have no idea if trick-or-treaters came by our house after we left, but I doubt it. No one rang the bell at J & J's house, so I doubt if anyone was down on our front porch waiting for treats. Actually, I had given out Halloween treats to one of the little girls down the hill..... she came by selling things for school last week, so I let her pick out some Halloween books and pencils for herself and her sister.

My cousin F in NY sent me an eMail telling me all about the costumes of the little kids who came to her door.... the best was a brother/sister pair dressed up as Salt & Pepper shakers. My husband and I wondered last night who was giving out candy and treats back at our old house in Clear Lake.

As our own quiet Halloween night came to a close, my husband said that we really have to plan a Halloween party for next year. Well, isn't that what we both said last year? Then we get to thinking about our Clear Lake parties.... then we say that a party here wouldn't be like a party there... and then we don't do it. We have to get that thought out of our heads--- the party will be different, with different people, but it will be a party just the same and we really need to do it. So you heard it here first..... next October, my Halloween party invitations are going out the first week of October, just like I used to do. No excuses next year.

We spent the day before Halloween looking at the insides and outsides of new refrigerators. Between two appliance stores, Lowe's and Home Depot, we saw so many refrigerators that they were beginning to look the same. So many gadgets in the doors of the new models..... computers, ice three ways, water two ways, the time, the date, a little TV. Doesn't anyone make just a fridge anymore?

We finally found the one we wanted.... this one is a Whirlpool... French door on top, freezer on the bottom. No gadgets in the door. Ice-maker and filter inside and that's it. They get you with those inside filters-- at least $30 for each one. You're paying for filters for as long as you have the fridge, bringing the cost of the fridge up to heaven-only-knows-what. (And they don't make the large-size refrigerators without those little filters.)

The Whirlpool was at Lowe's, which is where we bought this blasted Samsung (which has begun making those noises again-- a sure signal that ice is building up by the fan again). We spoke to Lowe's today.... they will bring the new fridge tomorrow, and take away the Samsung. We tried our best to get a GE, but the models without all the stuff in the door were either too small inside or too awkwardly set-up, or too something. We even found a fridge made by Electrolux (the vacuum company) that we nearly bought, but then decided that the inside of the Whirlpool was bigger and set-up in a more convenient way. (I would bet that the insides of these fridge models are not being designed by a woman.)

Along with Halloween and the new fridge came another blast of summer weather.... it's been warm, nearly hot, and not a drop of rain. All the ponds in the area are either dried up or nearly dried up, unless they're being fed by a water-pipe (most of which aren't). Everyone now has very attractive super-huge holes on their property rather than ponds. Oh well.... when it starts raining again, the ponds will be filling up.

I spent this morning taking down all the Halloween decorations. There isn't a pumpkin or black cat or a witch's hat in sight... everything is packed away till next year. By the end of this week, I will be taking out the Christmas decorations..... and out will come the Santas, the little trees, the angels, the holiday china. And out will come the party invitations....... we need to have a Christmas party this year. And no, there will not be a live band like we had in Clear Lake, and no, there will not be 50 or 60 people here..... it will be a much smaller party, but a party it will be. We've got to start somewhere.... and this big old house is just crying out to have a party going on inside of it.

In case anyone is interested..... just 54 days till Christmas. Jingle Bells.