The Rooster

For several years now, we've kept chickens.  Okay, Daniel has kept chickens.  I like to go by the coop and say "Hi, Girls!"  They're pleasant little cluckers, and I love having fresh eggs.  It's been a very low-maintenance endeavor so far, especially for me.  (Saying "hello" isn't that draining.)  Daniel dumps a bag of food into their feeder every month or so, and ties a couple of buckets of water to the side of the pen.  (So they won't dump it out or drown in it.  Because they're stupid.  Cute, but stupid.) 
We had a tragic loss a few months back, when apparently some coyotes broke through the chicken wire (metal, ya'll!) and killed our four girls.  They drug three off, and left one poor little headless chicken in the coop.  I went over one morning to say "Hi, Girls" and got the shock of my life!  Once I was convinced it was a four legged critter I was vastly relieved and glad I hadn't called the police yet.
So we got three new girls.  Pretty little brown teenagers who have grown into nice hens.  We don't have a green layer this time, which was a little disappointing, but they've given us nice brown speckled eggs almost every day.  Until...
My brother, the farmer, had an extra rooster.  Would we like him?  Why not, we said.  But I made it clear that if he bothered my girls he was history.  So we got him.  And he is gorgeous.  Tall, with black feathers that show iridescent blue and green in the light.  He knows he's handsome, but the girls like him, so all is well. 
Then a couple of the hens decided it was time to start a family.  My normally pleasant girls who obligingly hop off the nest when I gather eggs are gone.  In their place are crazy broody hens!  The first day I went in with a long-handled spoon to "encourage" them off the nest.  When she turned around and pecked the spoon I screamed and almost dropped the spoon.  After a while I decided she could keep her egg!  A few days later I gathered my courage and headed to the coop, armed with Nathan's play rake and shovel.  At first, I tried to shoo her off the nest.  She fluffed up to a monstrous size and starting pecking at the toy shovel.  I think I jumped every time.  I pushed, she pushed.  Chickens are surprisingly strong!  Eventually I just used the rake to get the egg onto the shovel, then pulled it out.  After that I told Daniel I was out of the egg gathering business!
So today we decided to let the rooster out to walk around the yard and eat bugs.  He seemed to be having a fantastic time, strutting and crowing, fluffing out his feathers every few minutes.  I had forgotten about him, when I heard Nathan crying.  I looked up to see the rooster right in front of him.  I launched out of my camp chair and started across the yard, yelling I don't know what as I went.  (Go ahead, imagine it.)  Now, if you haven't guessed it, I'm afraid of chickens.  I keep a nice distance.  As I came barreling up the yard, the rooster flapped into Nathan again.  That was it for this momma.  I set one flip-flop clad food and kicked him square in the chest.  He launched a few feet from the impact, while I scooped up Nathan and prepared to do flip-flop to spur battle.  Fortunately for all involved, he just stood there stunned, and I carried Nathan back to the deck, expecting the worst.  I sat him down and saw no blood or scratches, so it seems the rooster was just posturing.  Lucky for him, is all I've got to say about that!     

Cheesecake

This is National Infertility Awareness Week.  I am thankful for how God used infertility in my life, but I'll never forget how painful those years of waiting for a baby were.  Many others are still in the midst of that pain; about 1 in 8 couples!  We waded through with the help of God, and some dear friends who were willing to listen, learn, and do their best to support us.  This is a story I wrote to try and give a glimpse of how it feels...

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved cheesecake.  She spent lots of time admiring other people’s cheesecake.  She even got jobs helping with cheesecake.  The girl dreamed of someday having her own delicious slice.
The girl got married.  Her husband wasn’t as into cheesecake as she was.  They both had other yummy things to eat, and years went by.  One day the husband decided he’d like some cheesecake too, so they went to a wonderful restaurant. 
The couple was good friends with the owner/chef, and knew that he had a kitchen full of fabulous cheesecake.  They sat down happily, and gave their order.  And they waited.  And they waited.
After a while, they decided they’d better check on their order, and make sure it got to the kitchen.  It had, but still no cheesecake.  The couple was confused.  At the table to their left, a young girl got some cheesecake, but didn’t know what to do with it.  A couple near the back argued about their cheesecake, then threw it away.  A couple by the door ignored their cheesecake, as if it wasn’t on the table.  A woman nearby complained loudly about her cheesecake’s imperfections, and how it wasn’t what she’d ordered.
The couple spoke to the chef often.  He sent out various dishes for them, but never cheesecake.  One dish was a soup.  It was so hot and bitter, it brought tears to their eyes.  At first the couple tried to hide their reactions, but it was obvious to any observer.
Some diners offered advice on the best way to order cheesecake.  Some assumed the couple didn’t deserve cheesecake.  Others listened to their story, then spoke to the chef on their behalf.
After a long conversation with the chef, the couple decided that a different cheesecake would be wonderful.  Finally, a chance for dessert!  They smoothed out their napkins, lined up their utensils, smiled at each other nervously…and waited.  And waited.  And waited.
The waiting was hard.  Sometimes a waiter would seem to be heading right for their table, only to turn at the last minute and give the cheesecake to someone else.
They watched in disbelief as friends (who had been waiting even longer than they) were given cheesecakes, only to have them smashed and whisked away back to the kitchen.  They became angry with the chef, until they remembered that He knew exactly what would suit each customer. 
At times their hunger would diminish, only to come roaring back.  Several of their close friends got fresh slices of cheesecake, and they were happy for them, but sad as well.  People sometimes ask them why they don’t just give up on the cheesecake, and have something else?  Friends have been amazed at what they are willing to pay for their cheesecake.
They’re still waiting.  Still hungry.  Still trusting that the chef has the perfect recipe.  But, oh, so desperately craving that cheesecake…

Icee where you're going with this...

It's a little dangerous when Krista & I plan things together.  We both have a tiny smidge of stubborn, that when combined... 
It all started with her Christmas card.  (Read: Krista's fault)  She sent pictures to her co-workers.  I quickly got a text: "Where are pictures of your little man?"  Enter brilliant idea #1: "I'll bake cookies and drop them off with some pictures."  And, like most awesome ideas, it grew.  "Why don't you come too?"  And grew.  "And we can have that awesome salad at the cafeteria."  And grew.  "And I'll drop off pictures for our birthmom at Lifeline."  And grew.  "And my social worker can come and meet us."  And grew.  "And we can shop for Nathan's birthday."  Super.  We called and made arrangements.  It's on.
Then...  Krista's "quick" baby weigh-in at the pediatrician turned into a 2 1/2 hour ordeal, thanks to an office staff error.  (Did we call it off?  Nooooo.)  And it was freezing.  And snowing.  (Did we call it off?  Nooooo.)
We finally got to Lakeshore, and had a great time showing off babies and chatting.  Then we went to the cafeteria (it's now 1:30pm, and the littles are quite ready for lunch).  No salad?!  What?!  I've been dreaming of that salad for weeks!  Will you check in the back?  None there, either?  Lettuce, strips of grilled chicken, cranberries, orange slices, candied pecans, all smothered in a fabulous-only-available-there-mouth-watering vinaigrette.  Sigh.
I called my SW to let her know we'd be late.  No problem.  I scurried through the wet snow (with thunder?  how weird is that?) and pulled the car around to load the babies.  We headed toward Lifeline.  We didn't get far when traffic stopped.  On an icy hill.  I slithered across a bridge, the car going places I certainly didn't tell it to.  I called my husband, to ask how to to engage the 4-wheel drive.  That we don't have.  Oops.
It took us an hour to go up that hill.  Almost every time we'd start we'd slide a bit, inching toward the car beside us, then the concrete divider.  It was a very long hour. 
Which brings me to another detail that I've left out.  I didn't see that "No refills" sign.  I really didn't.  Krista told me about it as I happily sipped my second Pepsi.  Oops.  My bad.  I paid for that mistake.  Oh, how I paid! 
At first, it was funny.  Teehee, I shouldn't have had that second coke!  Then, funny turned into uncomfortable.  Then painful.  And I started looking at options.  "If Krista held up that blanket around me..."  "I can always clean the seat when I get home..."  "I wonder how much liquid that blanket could absorb..."  Shortly thereafter, the joggers in SHORTS went by, chugging up the hill.  I was glad I wasn't huddled behind a blanket, waving as they passed.  "Hello.  Nice day.  Have a good run!"
Miracle of miracles, the sun came out, and the ice started to melt.  I must admit, the more important matter of safety was somewhat eclipsed at this point by my desperation.  I eagerly searched for a gas station.  Ah, Shell, how I love thee!  As soon as I was off the road, I hopped out of the car.  "I'm leaving the keys in case you need to move it."  I'm sure I looked graceful as I walked toward the building, trying not to slip on the slush.  You know, graceful like a robot.  Who needs the bathroom.  That kind of graceful.
We never got to meet my SW.  The shopping trip was out.  It took us all day to accomplish our "quick trip."  It took longer than that for me to recover my nerves! 
The snow is so pretty outside my window.  The ice has melted.  I think I'm going to go potty, just because I can!

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