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11 02, 2022

Embracing Different

By |2022-02-12T15:40:17-06:00February 11th, 2022|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

I have cracked literally hundreds of eggs in my lifetime. As a chicken wrangler, it may be closer to thousands. Our chicken eggs tend to have thicker shells. The duck eggs have a thicker membrane inside the shell.

Most of the time, however, the eggs crack the same way.

We have one chicken whose eggs consistently crack longways:

This was disturbing at first. I was holding the egg and expecting it to crack like all the others. Feeling it crack in a perpendicular manner was totally different.

Many things in the last two years have been totally different. This, too, was disturbing at first.  Teaching remotely, wearing masks, limiting physical contact – it was all strange.

As much as I would like to return to “normal” (whatever that is), I have come to accept that different can be ok. I am learning to embrace different.

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7 02, 2022

Why Valentine’s Day?

By |2022-02-02T15:54:51-06:00February 7th, 2022|A Writer's Life, Holidays, Valentine's Day|0 Comments

Soon many people will be exchanging cards, candy, gifts, or flowers with their special “valentine.” Why do we do that?

Valentine’s Day is named for a Christian martyr Saint Valentine a real priest who lived in 270 A.D. and provided Christians with sacraments outlawed by the Roman Empire such as marriage and ended up in prison.

Saint Valentine is said to have cut hearts from parchment, giving them to the soldiers and persecuted Christians to “remind them of God’s love and to encourage them to remain faithful Christians.”

On the evening before his execution, he wrote the first “valentine” addressed to the daughter of his jailer and signed the greeting “Your Valentine.” And thus began our custom of giving cards and reminders to loved ones on February 14th.

The Greeting Card Association estimates as much as $933 million will be spent on cards and gifts this year. One billion Valentine’s Day cards are sent each year.

Esther A. Howland, known as the “Mother of the Valentine,” used “scrap” to make elaborate creations with real lace, ribbons, and colorful pictures. The American Antiquarian Society in Worcester holds a large collection of her valentines.

I have a personal ephemera postcard collection. While not as elaborate as Ms. Howland’s, I love the way these cards speak of romance.

If you don’t want to spend money on cards or have the time to make a card. You can always express your love with these “signs” from Signing Savvy, the online American Sign Language Dictionary.

Moi, I’m not shy about romance or telling the ones I love how much I love them on this special day. My Valentine cards are in the mail.

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4 02, 2022

Hard Goodbye

By |2022-02-03T14:01:12-06:00February 4th, 2022|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|2 Comments

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Monday was rough on Miller Farm.  Rachel summed it up best on a Facebook post:

“We said goodbye to Tucker today. The toy hoarding, fetch-loving, snuggly dachshund who started an entire chapter in our lives. He was the first inside dog, the first dachshund, and the first dog to sleep in my parents’ bed. Who knew 16.5 years ago when I asked for a puppy that we would end up with 6 dachshunds!”

It was quite sad.  Even the sky was crying raindrops.

There is some comfort in thinking he will rejoin Bella, who crossed the Rainbow Bridge recently.

Rachel told us yesterday at breakfast she saw a cardinal on the back fence on Tuesday.  It was the first one to appear in our backyard this year.

She reminded us of the tradition that says cardinals represent the soul of a departed loved one.  Whether or not that is true, God used that cardinal to bring comfort to her and thereby to us.

Farewell, Tucker Pup.

Your legacy lives on in your son Max and daughter Penelope.

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31 01, 2022

No New Year Resolutions for Me

By |2022-01-30T10:04:23-06:00January 31st, 2022|A Writer's Life, Writer's Life|1 Comment

After everything that happened in 2020, I had so wanted 2021 to be our return to normalcy. There were moments, but normal didn’t happen.

We had even more COVID variants to put up with. Plus, we lost Betty White and Alex Trebek. Not a good year at all. I was more than happy to turn my calendar and head into a new year.

January always feels like a second chance, a time for fresh starts. To begin again with resolutions for changes, if not in the world, then in ourselves.

Bloggers offer plenty of ideas for resolutions. I usually prepare a goal-setting blog or two myself. Not this year. No blog and no list of personal goals for me this year.

Why? Because resolutions are notoriously unsuccessful. Life always gets in the way. I’m trying something different this year.

I haven’t liked what I’ve seen in the world in the last two years. I haven’t laughed a lot. Some days I haven’t even smiled.

Instead of making a resolutions list, I intend to laugh more in 2022. While I can’t change the past, I’m counting on humor to get me through the present.

I know there will be new challenges in 2022. According to experts, China’s “gift” to the world is entering the endemic phase. That means COVID is never going away. The good news is, having survived the last two years, we have an arsenal to combat an endemic.

Will laughter solve all the issues we face? Of course not.

But laughter will increase oxygen intake and stimulate our heart, lungs, and muscles. Most importantly, laughter will increase the endorphins that activate and relieve stress responses.

In today’s world, that’s a win-win.

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28 01, 2022

Playing Chicken

By |2022-01-28T11:54:16-06:00January 28th, 2022|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Things have settled into a new routine here on Miller Farm since Rachel moved home with her two dogs.  One of the dogs is Penelope, Max’s sister, who has lived on Miller Farm in the past.  Cooper, however, is the newcomer.  He is an Australian Shepherd puppy and is much larger and busier than the dachshunds.

Cooper gets along with everyone – even the chickens and ducks.  In fact, he enjoys “helping” me refill the duck pond.  By “helping”, I mean he plays in the water coming from the hose as I drag it to the duck pond.

He has even gotten into the chicken yard a couple of times.  After realizing the chickens do not respond well to “herding”, he has given up.

He has been introduced to the chicken on a fencepost game.  He was very curious.  Penelope explained to him that the game involves waiting and watching while the chicken walks along the top of the fence.

Everyone, including humans, waits to see which side of the fence the chicken will choose.

Fortunately, most of the chickens have learned to return to their side.  They don’t yet realize that Cooper would just attempt to herd them back there anyway.

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24 01, 2022

The Posing Tree

By |2022-01-28T12:06:56-06:00January 24th, 2022|A Writer's Life, Writer's Life|1 Comment

We have a huge oak tree in our front yard. Its trunk is thick. The branches wind and curve and resurrection fern covering the limbs unfurl to life after a rain.

Arborists tell us it’s around two hundred years old. We love it for its beauty and shade.

It begs to be climbed.

Old and young and very agile answer its call.

It is a perfect posing tree for photographs.

Photos that capture moments of time.

Photos that bring smiles.

Memories are what I love most about our beautiful oak tree.

 

What are you loving most these days?

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21 01, 2022

New Chicks

By |2022-01-17T17:18:57-06:00January 21st, 2022|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

The preschool class at my school hatched chicks before Christmas. Usually, they do this in the Spring, but I no longer question anything. The classroom teacher took them home the first weekend, but her dogs were much too interested in them for her comfort.

So, the next weekend I volunteered to take them home. After all, there are only six dogs in our house and our grandson was coming to visit. We could use some excitement on Miller Farm.

I wore my Chicken Whisperer shirt the day I picked them up. The students were most concerned as I gathered them up. I explained I had many other chickens at my house and could take good care of them.

I promised to bring pictures as they grew. I also said I would bring eggs when they started to lay.

The following Monday, when I saw the preschool class, one of them asked if I had brought eggs. Preschoolers have no concept of time.

After the past two years, I’m not sure I do either.

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