We have begun the countdown to summer!
It's a cold day, but there is no snow. We wont have a white Christmas, though the day after the holiday will bring the usual deep chill and that spell of cold weather will last (possibly longer than we may want it to).
Ed is keeping an eye out for chickens on Craigslist. Why, you ask. (As do I!) Well, we currently have four layers and one rooster.
Having once had six, he's tempted to keep that number going, especially since in the winter, it's not impossible to imagine that we'll lose one of the old girls (Peach or Henny), or have a predator grab one of the little ones (everyone is hungry for chicken meat in the cold months).
Buying chickens on Craigslist is risky. You could introduce disease into your coop unless you are super careful. Too, there is a reason why the seller is trying to get rid of his or her chickens and that reason may not be so innocent: they are angry chickens. They don't lay eggs. They don't get along with others. You don't like them and they don't like you. Nonetheless, Ed has this belief that most people are good and thus most Craigslist sales are good and we can screen out the bad eggs out there.
[I am forever surprised by Ed's faith in the marketplace, given that he is, overall, a pessimist. Just the other day I asked him where on the continuum of pessimist/optimist he would place himself and he answered -- at the 30% level. But that low number does not translate to unhappiness with his daily life. It merely reflects his belief that the planet is doomed! Now, can you guess where on that same continuum I reside? I'll give you a hint -- he and I do not share the same side of the spectrum. He says I'm between 70 and 80%. I agree -- probably closer to 80, and the missing 20 is there only because we have had to endure a raucous political scene, a pandemic, and climate change, all pretty much in the same few years. Also, I don't like the fact that most animals have to kill others to survive. Doesn't seem fair.]
(Breakfast)
In the afternoon, I do the last school pickup of the year. A pajama'd girl, happy as a clam to be in her night time garb.
It's also Snowdrop's last solo visit to the farmhouse this year. (Her brother will be coming along at all other times.)
We use it to read, to talk, to munch on a half dozen fruits and on her beloved indulgence here -- potato chips. Oh, don't tell me I should do better! It's just a small handful and they are reduced-fat. (Like I said, we always have ready justifications for our bad behavior.)
(Ed is stretching his back; she says she is stretching his tummy)
I drop her off in the evening and drive home on the crisp first night after solstice. Already one minute shorter than the night before -- how good is that!
(yeah!)
