Flowers – e.e. cummings
15
03, 2023
13
03, 2023
Country Living
Living in the country means living with wildlife. Raccoons, possums, deer, gophers, and armadillos are always roaming around, tunneling through the property.
We see them cross the yard late at night and/or early in the morning. Usually, it’s no big deal.
Unless there’s a major rainstorm and four inches of rain falls in an afternoon for two days in a row.
When that happens, this happens.
Fence posts washed out.
Deep ruts through the yard.
Gigantic dirt washes where the tunnels were.
It’s a mess and dangerous to humans and pets.
We had the holes filled and contacted a wildlife relocation company to trap the armadillo we’d seen in the yard multiple times.
Traps were set around his most recent dig sites.
The wildlife relocator assured us the armadillo would be guided into his traps by the interesting construction.
A configuration that looks like giant wooden Xs leading to the no-kill traps.
Right…
It’s been three weeks since the traps were set.
No armadillo inside either trap.
The question now is: Do we leave the traps? Or assume Mr. Armadillo has moved on to more fertile ground because we spread stuff to wipe out all the ants and grubs he’d been munching on?
If we remove the traps, I’m sure the creatures will, no doubt, return to dig tunnels again. They have that inbred sense to know when danger is gone and dinner is available.
So the battle of living in the country goes on. I’m thinking the traps have been up so long the yard will look funny without them. We’re gonna keep trying.
10
03, 2023
Walking on the Wild Side
A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara
We have one hen who much prefers to be on the opposite side of the fence Since Max is not interested in chasing chickens, it has been fine.
Penelope, Max’s sister, visited recently and she is not so considerate of the chicken on the wrong side of the fence. I tried returning the hen to the chicken yard but several over-amorous roosters chased her around.
I ended up keeping her in a cage in the front yard during Penelope’s visit.
Most of the roosters are gone now so the hen is safe in the chicken yard. She is not quite convinced and keeps finding her way out.
I’ve decided she likes to walk on the wild side. And as long as it is safe for her, I will allow it. Hopefully, the other chickens will not get jealous. I’m not ready for a chicken uprising.
8
03, 2023
6
03, 2023
March’s Lion-Lamb Saying
Briton Rivière – Una and the Lion
March Comes in like a Lion, goes out like a Lamb.
Our calendars now say March. Have you heard this proverb quoted yet?
It’s been around since 1732 and its first mention in Gnomologia: Adagies and Proverbs; Wise Sentences and Witty Sayings, Ancient and Modern, Foreign and British. Ever since, the proverb is often quoted.
While the adage most likely refers to the weather, other sources trace its origins to the stars. If you look to the western horizon this time of year, you can see the constellations of Leo the Lion and Aries the Ram (or lamb).
Leo the Lion rises from the east in early March, meaning the month is coming in “like a lion.” By the end of the month, Leo is almost overhead, while Aries the Ram (lamb) is setting on the western horizon. Hence, the month is going out like a lamb.
Another theory claims the saying is biblical and the animal references are symbolic. The problem with that is Jesus first appeared as the sacrificial lamb. His return will be as the Lion of Judah, not exactly in the same order as the saying.
The proverb isn’t a reliable forecasting guide either. March is a pivotal meteorological month with an inconsistent seasonal pattern. Sometimes the month slips in like a lamb and then turns lion-like at the end. Current weather patterns determine what actually happens.
Whatever way the month begins, it’s always a clear promise spring is on its way.
How did March begin where you live–like a lion or a lamb?
3
03, 2023
Birds of A Feather
A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara
Last weekend was the Ladies’ Retreat for our church. The organizers set up a text group to send messages and reminders. At one point in the conversation, this photo appeared:
It was followed immediately by a message “Oops, wrong text thread! Sorry, ladies!”
Then came this picture: 
Then this one:
It was so fun to see how many of my friends are also chicken wranglers! I guess birds of a feather do flock together!
1
03, 2023
27
02, 2023
Scents of Spring and Dirt
Spring must seem lost for many of you who are buried under mountains of snow from blizzards. Down here where I live, the scents of spring are already in the air. Green sprouts dot bushes and trees and temperatures are pushing eighty degrees…in February!
We spent a day clearing winter’s carnage of dead leaves and pine needles from the flowerbeds and unlocked the pungent earthy aroma of the black earth. I inhaled the promise of spring’s colorful blooms as the scent of dirt filled my senses.
Memories floated in my head.
~Helping my grandmother weed her gardens.
~Making dirt mud pies and cakes for my siblings to sample.
~Planting seedpods so my children could watch a plant sprout and then produce something edible.
~Hiking in the woods with the pungent smell of years-old decaying leaves and stumps.
I still enjoy feeling dirt. The texture of lumpy clumps of rich, moist black dirt on my hands, with maybe an earthworm wiggling through. Powdery dirt flowing through my fingers when the ground is dry. Gritty dirt dying on my jeans after I’ve wiped my hands.
The earthy smells and memories make me smile.
This morning tiny tentacles of green, freed from all that weight, pushed upward through the dirt. There’ll be another wave of winter and the weeds will return, I’m sure, but today I see the promise of spring.
If you’re looking at snow, hang on spring will come. It always does.
22
02, 2023
20
02, 2023
A Strange Holiday
Today is President’s Day… or is it Presidents’ Day… Presidents Day… Or Washington’s Birthday as the Office of Personnel Management notes on its federal calendar.
All those names are used.
With no official name, it’s hard to know how or what to call the holiday and it’s a grammar nightmare. The apostrophe is everywhere.
Sometimes there’s none, i.e. Presidents Day. Sometimes the apostrophe is placed between the last two letters as in President’s Day. Sometimes it’s after the last letter Presidents’ Day.
Then President is used as plural or singular.
To most people, the day is when banks and federal employees have a holiday and retail stores run sales.
Back in my day, we celebrated two presidential birthdays in February on their actual birthdays –George Washington on February 22 and Abraham Lincoln on February 16.
The 1971 Uniform Monday Holiday Act changed all that with the creation of three-day weekends and designated the third Monday of February to honor all presidents, past and present. That blurred the day’s meaning from the original purpose.
You’ll also notice Presidents’ Day never falls on either Washington or Lincoln’s birthdates or any of the other four presidents’ February birthdates—George Washington, William Henry Harrison, Abraham Lincoln, and Ronald Reagan.
Strange holiday, I say.
Whatever you call the holiday and however you choose to write it, enjoy the day.
Maybe do a little reading. Check out my author page for some excellent book choices.