Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!

We have chickens.  In addition to the eggs, meat, and pest control that these feathered fowl provide, they also provide entertainment.  Above is a 1 minute clip of some of  our chickens in action.

Have you heard of the Sand Hill Preservation Center?  Here is the link:  http://www.sandhillpreservation.com/
This is a wonderful place that sells heirloom poultry and seeds.  On the front of their hard copy catalogue is "over 1600 rare and genetic treasures for your selection."

During the long winter, this catalogue is a great one to just sit down and read . . . like a book.  The enterprise is run by a husband and wife team.  They live on a working farm.  The reader of the catalogue is also cautioned not to expect immediate email responses.   They also only take  orders by regular mail. Their time is limited.  And if you are someone who wants immediate service, this place is not for you.  But if you are someone who has patience and is willing to wait, wonderful things will come your way.

The catalogue is black and white.  The 2010 catalogue cover was done by a student at Calamus-Wheatland High School.  Sand Hill  Preservation Center is run by Iowans involved in their community.  I've never met these people, but I like them, just because of their catalogue.

My husband has been ordering seeds from them for several years, but this was the first year we decided to try their chickens.  What beautiful chickens they are turning out to be.  We ordered the farmyard assortment.  It's a crazy quilt of chickens!  Polish, Egyptian, the beautifully named Crevecouer, and other breeds.

Corporate farming involves millions of chickens -- all one breed -- the breed that will provide the most eggs and meat in the shortest amount of time.

Sand Hill Preservation Center is dedicated to those breeds of poultry who are overlooked and forgotten.  The seeds for the garden are heirloom seeds also.  Worthy genetic strains which still have value today.  If you are a "hobby" farmer or gardener, I urge to order one of Sand Hill's catalogues.  The catalogue in itself is a great read!

SLANTED SHADOWS

The slant of the sun's light is beautiful this time of year. During the summer, the sun glares down from overhead washing out all but the brightest of nature's colors. The landscape turns into a setting for a Cormac McCarthy novel. But autumn brings a gentler sun and with the gentler sun comes the angled light and slanted shadows.

Beginning with my feeding the cats moon shot at 5:20 this morning, above is a collage of pictures taken on our morning walk. Lovely time of year.

Take a deep breath and relax.

No ranting today.  The older I get, the more rants I have!   My generation -- the baby boomers -- seems to be up in arms about something all the time.  


Today, though, is a peaceful posting. Enjoy.  If your Internet connection is good, this clip will just take a minute of your time.  It's composed of a moon shot when I was  outside at 5:15 this morning feeding the cats, then shots I took during our two mile walk this morning.


And I'll leave you with some autumn roses which are blooming just outside our kitchen door.

October roses

DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME - WHY DO WE STILL HAVE IT?

Walking at 7:30 this morning.

Reflective wear I don before
walking.

I've already talked about the dangers of walking on our road in a previous post, but since it was dark this morning on our walk -- my husband put on his flashing tail light -- I thought I'd post pictures yet again of what we wear to avoid being smashed by a vehicle. I recommend this clothing for all cyclists, joggers and walkers.

Someone, whose name I will not allow my lips to speak, once commented that the United States is a "nation of whiners." True. I just hate it that the words were spoken by the unnameable one. Nevertheless, this quote is a nice segue into my latest "whine."

Daylight savings time. Really. Isn't it time we just stick on one time and quit switching the clock back and forth? No matter whether the clock is "falling back" an hour or "springing forth" one hour, it still takes us at least a week to adjust to the time change. We are either feeling rushed or too early.

Isn't life in the 21st century stressful enough without looking at whatever one looks at to check the time (cell phones, clocks, watches, etc.), without the (warning: old lady trying to be hip) POA (period of adjustment) our bodies go through each time the change takes place?

Think of young families with babies and toddlers who are (hopefully) on some kind of schedule. Even one hour can throw the whole day off. And farmers. While not true farmers in any sense of the word -- one could call us "farm piddlers" -- we have sheep and chickens whose tummies tell us to show up at a certain time of day, hang the darkness. I can't imagine what it is like for full fledged farming operations.

The National Geographic has a good article on the history of Daylight Savings Time, the full text of which can be seen here: http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news

The article says that we are sold (my word) daylight savings time with talk of the decrease in the number of traffic accidents and crimes committed. Congress chimed in by stating that our Nation's youth benefit from the extension of daylight at the end of the day so they can play outside longer. Consumers can continue shopping, spending money further into the extended daylight. Congress also pointed out that it helps domestic offices when the USA's office hours overlap those of the European community.

It sounds nice . . . it always does. Kind of like a frog being dumped in a pot of water on a stove burner. Slowly the flame turns up and slowly the unaware frog boils.

Society is running 24/7 all the time now. Thirty years ago, when our children were babies and required late night feedings and rocking, we could still see a bit of flag waving and listen to the National Anthem as the television stations, one by one, signed off -- and we were living in a big city at the time. Do any television stations sign off anymore?

Some brick and mortar stores are opened all the time, and the Internet offers us 24/7 opportunities to research, shop, and communicate at home.

Let's choose a stable time -- a time that does not switch back and forth with the seasons. In this unstable world, we need something that is always the same: a calendar year has 12 months, a day has 24 hours, a week has seven days, and a clock, whose hands, when they are on 3 o'clock, it is really 3 o'clock.

Not, "OMG, it's really 4 o'clock". Heart races, blood pressure goes up . . . does the USA need that stress?

And, remember, FALL BACK the first Sunday in NOVEMBER.

The Wichita Mountains this morning at 8:10.

Voting, Bee Pollen, and our Morning Walk

Sunrise, Monday, 25 Oct 2010 

Today my husband and I voted!  We had our ballots mailed to us earlier last month.  We studied all the questions that are on the Oklahoma  ballot this year.  I am not sure why we have a legislature.  Don't we elect representatives to handle a lot of these decisions?  

This year, the time to fill out a ballot at a polling place will be 10 to 15 minutes in length because of all the questions.  It took us at least that long sitting at our kitchen table this morning reading over each question presented.  I'm not sure how actual voting -- next Tuesday -- will go.  After filling out the ballots we went to our local tag agent and had our signatures notarized before posting the ballots at the post office.

Bee pollen from the Elgin Tag Agency

The woman who owns the tag agency is also the wife of a bee keeper in Tipton, OK.  She had a nice display of honey and bee pollen.   (My husband has purchased hives from Tipton Valley Honey Company but his adventures with bees are for another time.)  I asked the tag agent about bee pollen and she said she mixes about 1/8 teaspoon in her yogart each morning.  It is supposed to help with allergies and other aches and pains.  I'm going to try it.  I've read about bee pollen before but have never seen it offered locally.

Our morning walks are on a beautiful road -- not much for
driving on but great for  walking. (25Oct2010)

The Wichita Mountains and windmills.  This is a
view from our road.  I took it this morning on our walk.

All Hail, Judge Judy

Before I begin my praise of Judge Judy, I wanted to share these pictures I took this morning of our sky in our little corner of a flyover state.  In the east, the sun was rising, and in the west, the moon was setting.  This  morning was beautiful.  This is a wonderful time of year.


Now, let the praising begin . . .






All hail, Judge Judy


I used to make fun of those judge shows.  “Who watches this stuff?” 


Until . . .


A few years back my second oldest grandson - Sweet Baby Boy 2 -- was sick.  He was only about four months old at the time.  My daughter had a busy day and she asked if I could drive up to watch him.  


Sweet Baby Boy 2 had a bad cold and all he wanted was to be held.  I rocked him, patting his back.  Holding a baby, rocking him, has got to be one of the best feelings in the world.  I knew I was doing the most important job I could be doing at that moment in time.


My daughter left the house, with the television going.  It was on the station that had the judge shows.  I didn’t  realize until after she had left that I didn’t have a clue how to work her television’s remote and I didn’t want to disturb Sweet Baby Boy 2, so I sat, rocked, and watched judge shows.  (One of our Oklahoma City stations has court shows all day long.)


The longer I sat and rocked and watched, the more I got into it.  I’d get up to change diapers and feed Sweet Baby Boy 2, but I always came back to the rocking chair and those silly court shows.  I liked “Judge Alex” but then “Judge Judy” came on.  


Wow!  Who knew?  She runs those plaintiffs and defendants through her courtroom like nobody’s business.  She is confident in her sometimes snap decisions.  And while I don’t always agree with the outcome, I respect the way she conducts her courtroom.  Plus, she has no reluctance in using the word “idiot.”  That is one of my favorite words and sometimes that’s the word that says it all.


I was hooked.  I am hooked.  She comes on in our area at 4 p.m. each weekday and, if possible, I try to catch her show.


My kids make fun of me for watching it -- I didn’t tell anyone for a long time -- it was my guilty secret. Then my husband retired and was hanging around the house more.  So I got him hooked on “Judge Judy” too.


I tell my kids that it is Sweet Baby Boy 2’s fault because if I had known how to operate that TV remote that day I was sitting and rocking him, I would never had enjoyed the opportunity to watch “Judy Judy.”

Emma and the Headless Chicken

My life today at 10:12 a.m. in my little part of a flyover state.


I was in the middle of cleaning, taking advantage of that zing of energy I get in the morning, hurrying before the zing went zang.  Tomorrow two of our grandchildren will pay us a visit. (It’s fall break in my  part of the flyover state.) 


The telephone rang.  Caller ID showed “Happy Hollow Vet.  Late yesterday afternoon, my husband had dropped our dog Emma off for a “deep” cleaning of her teeth and she was to be put into a twilight sleep for the procedure.


Me:  “Hello?”


HH:  “Hi.  How are you?  We have Emma under anesthesia right now and the doctor has noticed a mass on her right rear leg.  He said that he could also remove the growth as long as she is under anesthesia.  It would just be $75 extra.”


Me:  “Mmmmm. Let me check with my husband.”


I opened the kitchen door and stepped out onto the porch.  


“Carl!” I called.  (We have four acres -- he could be anywhere.)


He was within the sound of my voice.


He was under the carport, his back to me.  He turned.  


“Yes?”


In his hands was a headless chicken he had just finished plucking.  


I knew I had come a long way in our country living experiment when I managed to gulp once, ignoring the naked, headless chicken, and say, “Emma has a mass. The vet wants to know if he should remove it while she’s still out.”


“Yes.”


I gave the vet’s office the green light and returned to my cleaning, trying to recover any zing I had left.  


Carl continued plucking.


There will be no picture on today’s posting.  I leave it to your imagination.