Posted on August 31, 2012
Last Friday I posed the chicken lips question. Sorry to report, I haven’t come up with a definitive answer. But so far, my research has turned up some most interesting responses:
- a Fried Chicken Lips blog that reviews restaurants in Georgia.
- Chicken Lips’ — a World Humor Comedy Theater which presents customized music and comedy performances for businesses, associations, and private events.
- a Stafford, England dance band named Chicken Lips
- Urban Dictionary declares the question a nonsense retort to a stupid or rhetorical question
- WordReference.com has an entire thread on the question… (Caution some of the language is a bit over the top and may be inappropriate to you.)
Nothing about the anatomy of a chicken. Never fear, the chicken wrangler and I will continue our search and report.
Meanwhile, I’ll share another series of emails from the Miller Farm. These are all about feeding the chickens.
From Sara – the Miller Farm chicken wrangler:
I was checking on the chicken yesterday after a couple of days of bad weather. I decided to give them some grass. This means clipping grass from the backyard with hand clippers (an action which the neighbors find a bit strange) and tossing the clippings over the fence to the chickens.
Since they have eaten the chicken yard grass down to the dirt, they are most appreciative of any clippings they can get.
So I’m kneeling on the ground, clipping grass and I looked up to see three of our five dogs eating grass.
This made me wonder – is being a chicken contagious? Or does grass really taste that good?
What happens with these email conversations is that the whole family chimes in. Each tries to outdo the other.
Here’s how her sister responsed – who happens to be my cover designer extraordinaire (if you don’t believe me check out my books page)
Silly dogs!! Grass is for chickens!!! Finding your children or spouse eating grass now THAT would be problematic to be sure…
A reasonable response. I waited to see what email came in next. Then the chicken wrangler’s father responded:
“Be careful with dogs and chickens and grass. You could end up with pooched eggs!”
Couldn’t top that. I didn’t try. Next day Sara’s email continued the tale of chickens and grass…
So I went out to check on the chickens and cut some grass for them this morning. I noticed their feeder was almost empty – again. I told them they were eating like pigs.
That made me wonder – do we need to consider the chicken we eat as pork?
That would give a whole new meaning to the phrase “the other white meat.”
No responses. Perhaps, like our meal conversations, everyone was laughing too hard. Or thinking too hard!
It’s Labor Day weekend. Last holiday of Summer 2012. A time when we celebrate with parties, parades and athletic events. A time for cookouts and lazin’ around and grillin’ whichever “white” meat you prefer. Be safe and enjoy.
Thanks for dropping by the porch today, folks. I hope we started your holiday with a grin or two.
Posted on August 20, 2012
It’s Monday again time to begin our writing week. I thought it would be fun to consider how other writers write (wrote).
So what method will you be using to write this week?
Where will you be writing?
How much do you play to write?
I’m inspired. My goal this week is to complete revisions on the first five chapters of my current WIP.
How about you?
Posted on August 17, 2012
Yesterday morning when I (Sara the Chicken Wrangler extraordinaire) went to let the chickens out and give them food and water I discovered that one of the quail had gotten itself stuck in the space where the eggs roll out of the cage. This is not the first time this has happened so I was not at all surprised. After all quail, do have bird brains.
As I was getting it unstuck, I saw that the cage looked like something out of a quail horror movie. There were blood splatters all over the feeder. The stuck quail didn’t appear to be wounded enough to produce that much blood so I looked at the other quail.
One had what I guess would be the equivalent of a bloody lip — if quail had lips. Its mouth was bleeding and so every time it shook its head, blood went everywhere.
Not being as attached to the quail as I was dear Einstein (the rescued rooster from last week), I decided that what happened in the quail cage, stays in the quail cage and returned to the house.
Later that afternoon I went to retrieve eggs and check on the birds. One of the quail had in fact died. Since there was nothing I could do for it (I only revive roosters.), I went to play another round of “Get the egg from the small coop,” a game in which the challenge is to get the egg from the back of the cage (which is slanted away from the door) to the door and get it out before it rolls back down.
To make the task easier, I have found the perfect branch with a hook in it to scoot the egg forward. So far, my record is three tries before the egg goes into my basket.
Then I checked the other coop, which had a stunning lack of eggs. I thought perhaps the dirty condition of the nest boxes prevented the chickens from laying. After all, I would not even consider laying an egg in that filth even if I were prone to laying eggs – which I am not.
So I headed back up to the house for a shovel to clean out the nest boxes. I filled water jugs and headed back to the chicken yard with the shovel balanced on top of the chicken waterer. [In case you don’t know what a chicken waterer is check out this site.]
As I approached the coop, I saw something I never hope to see again. Bella (one of the four daschunds) had one of the chickens by the neck. I assumed she pulled it under the wire covering in the gate.
Anyway, I dropped everything to the ground and ran towards them yelling at Bella to stop.
Bella was distracted long enough for the chicken to head under the shed. Little did the chicken know that dachshunds are bred to go into small spaces after animals.
Bella headed under the shed. I, being much larger than the chicken and Bella combined, decided to approach the shed from the side in the chicken yard. I pulled the hen out from under the shed into the safety of the chicken yard.
Chicken wrangler – 1, Bella – 0
Posted on August 13, 2012
This month’s guest speaker at my local RWA chapter was Adrienne deWolfe.
Being in on vacation, I wasn’t able to hear her program, but I did check out her website and found a wealth of helpful resources. You might want to do some checking yourself.
I also discovered this delightful video Ms deWolfe created which inspired me to get my butt in the chair and WRITE. I’m sharing so you can start your week with Wit and Wisdom from writers, too.
Okay, so did the authors inspired to write?
Posted on August 10, 2012
The Millers are Sara, my daughter, and her husband, Brian, who have a mini-farm at their home in Aggieland. For my non-Texan readers, that’s Bryan/College Station, Texas. That’s right, in their backyard, a chicken coop with nine “Easter Eggers,” a few Barred Rocks, a couple of Black Copper Marens, a few black and few gold sex links, some Bantams and twenty-five American Game Birds. The rest are Barnyard Mutts. All give eggs that are truly delicious!
Part of their backyard also houses beehives. More about dealing with bees and fresh honey in future posts.
You’ll also find four miniature daschunds – Tucker, Bella, Sadie and Coco, one mixed breed dog name Marvin, and three teenager children—two girls and a boy, who wish to remain anonymous, on the Miller farm.
Sara, the chicken wrangler, writes such entertaining emails about life on the Miller Farm she should start her own blog. She won’t. That’s why – with her permission, I’ll be sharing the humor and fun of being a city farmer from her emails on Fridays.Today: ROOSTER RESCUERS (my comments and additions in blue)
Yesterday afternoon I (aka Sara, chicken wrangler extraordinaire) went out to check on the chickens and gather eggs (what few eggs are being laid in this heat). (Texas, like a good part of the country, is experiencing unending days of triple digit tempearatures.)
One of our roosters was laying under the coop looking not so good. I tried to entice him out with bread but alas, he didn’t move. I grabbed him by the legs, an action which usually results in much fussing and flapping. However, he came out with nary a sound. I laid him by the water, hoping that he would perk up. After I checked all the other birds, he was still lying there and the other birds were starting to pick on him.
Being the rooster lover that I am, I could not tolerate that and gently carried him to the garage where I summoned Dr. Brian (her husband, who, btw, is NOT a veterinarian but a school psychologist). Drawing from all his vast avian veterinary experience, he proclaimed that the bird had heat exhaustion.
I carried him (the bird, not Dr. Brian) to the living room where he laid in front of the fan which I have been told is the best remedy for heat exhaustion in humans so it has to work for birds – right?
Throughout the evening Mr. Rooster laid still raising his head just often enough to let us know he was not quite dead yet. When it was time for the humans to retire, we decided he needed to be contained in case he had a miraculous recovery overnight.
I put him in a cage and went to bed feeling quite comforted by the fact that we were just like all our neighbors who had roosters sleeping in their living rooms.
The next morning Mr. Rooster was much more alert and holding his head up. I put some water in his cage which he promptly spilled all over. At this point, he was making such a mess I moved his cage to the front yard.
After caring for all the other chickens, I moved him back with his flock where he stepped out of the cage on his own. He hung out by the water for a while and when I last checked, Mr. Rooster was walking around pecking the ground as chickens are prone to do.
I would say we have successfully snatched a rooster from the jaws of death earning the title Rooster Rescuers.
Sara might be okay with a rooster in her house. I’m not sure I’d be willing to set up a rooster infirmary in my living room. Would you?
Posted on August 7, 2012
My often neglected blog has been honored with a nomination for the One Lovely Blogger Award by my very good friend Forest and his human, Elaine Smothers (blogger and fellow WANAite). I’m awed to be considered lovely by anybody.
I did a Google search for information on this award and found nothing of its origins. I did find lots of links to other bloggers who have earned the award and choices for award badges here. The rules for accepting the award were easily located and involved nominations, thanks, and sharing.
- Post the award badge. (not included with all explanations)
- Thank the person who nominated you and link back to them in your post (an obvious requirement)
- Nominate 15 other blogs for this honor (the number varied)
- Share seven little known facts about yourself. (the part we all like best)
So I begin my acceptance with a big thank you to Forest and Elaine for the OLB nomination. Everyone should check out their blog at Wonder in the Wild. It’s one of my favorite blogs.
Here’s the badge I selected.
The hardest part of accepting any blogger award is choosing blogger nominees. OLB is no exception. There are so many worthy blogs and bloggers.
The fifteen bloggers I’m nominating have interesting, informative and fun blogs. Stop by their sites and meet them. I know you’ll enjoy exploring and learning about them.
- Alina at Illuminations
- Ben at Not One Sparrow
- Bethany at Write by Bethany
- Ciara at Finding Treasures in Dreams
- Ellen at To Beyond and Back
- Ginger at I am Blogger Hear Me Tweet
- J. D. at Living with the Muse
- Jane at Janie Carver 2011
- Jennifer at MuseTracks
- Kat at Kat Jorgensen
- Linda at Soldier, Storyteller
- Megan at Sortacrunchy
- Melissa at Melissa Ohnoutka
- Patricia at Masks the Book
- SJ at Come Sit By My Fire
Now, the fun part: seven little known facts about me.
- I decided I only like wildlife from afar after this fellow came to lunch last week and refused to leave until the Area Wildlife Manager Thorpe came to shoo him away. Mr. Bear was only two feet from my dining room window.
- I love my early morning water aerobics workouts.
- I won’t eat avocados or guacamole.
- I love all Harry Chapin’s songs. Especially Flowers Are Red and Cat’s in the Cradle If you’ve never heard the songs you can listen on Youtube: Flowers are Red and Cat’s in the Cradle
- I finally read a Nicholas Sparks novel, Dear John. Loved it!
- I’ve lived in AL, CO, CT, MS, NC, NM, TN, TX, VA, and WV. Only six of the nifty fifty are on my bucket list of places to see. I’ll let you guess which six. Hint: all but one are close to Canada.
Not one to follow always follow the rules, I’m going to leave #7, the last final fact, for you to ask what would you like to know about me. One caveat: I won’t tell you my weight, my age, or my address!
So, dear blog reader, it’s your turn. What would you like to know? Or, which six states do you think I’ve never been to?