Death Of A Delicate Flower

I knew it would happen. I just didn't imagine it would happen in THIS way. I made a true effort to rise this morning after Hope had her second feeding. It was 6:30am, and since my quiet time as of late has been out the window in the evenings, the early morning is clearly my only option. I showered. Had my morning coffee with some yummy coffee cake, and read all about Solomon during the peak of his days. Jack and Grace awoke, and we prepared breakfast. After that, I decided to get a jump on the chicken duty while the two littlest girls were still asleep.

With one foot out the back door, I knew there was trouble. Our rooster Silkie, Duke, was out. He was alone. And far from the coop. At a quick far off glance, I saw that the entire coop door was half open. NOT GOOD. With an "Oh, No.", I left Duke and headed toward the coop. It was empty. Not a single chicken. But enough feathers and tufts of feathers, to leave a tall story of what must of happened there last night.

Thankfully, I found alive chickens around the back of the barn. Hiding and clearly upset. At the looks of the coop, I thought for sure I had lost at least a few chickens. The girls were with Ernie, our alpha rooster. And he was not about to follow me into the coop at that time. So I went back out to see Duke, and see if I could coax him into going back to the coop.

Duke, was also very upset. It brought tears to my eyes, as I began to scan the scene, and realized that Daisy, our sweet Silkie girl was gone. Her feathers where everywhere, and made an obvious trail. Something had clearly gotten her. And then I heard him. For the FIRST time. Clear as day. A long sad, crow from Duke. He hasn't crowed until now. He crowed for a good while. Like a sad love song. Daisy was his lady. Since they both couldn't fly or roost, they would snuggle together at night in the corner. He was her rooster. She was his only concern. And now his life long partner was gone.

After questioning the kids, my heart sunk. Despite making the coop more predator proof than Fort Knox, I hadn't factored in human error. The chickens had gotten out of the coop yesterday, and for whatever fears, the children had purposely decided not to tell me. To my own fault, I hadn't checked in on the chickens that evening because I had been at the church. And, when Hope was finally settled at 10:30pm after a very fussy night, peeking in on the chickens was the last thing I wanted to do. Which means that the chickens probably returned to roost for the night, but they were all sitting ducks for something to waltz in and pick a dinner.

There is good news, and that is, that upon further inspection, Daisy is all we lost. We are very, VERY lucky. But we've learned more than one lesson at the expense of the sweetest chicken in the flock. The only chicken who was to be our pet.

Good bye little white Daisy...Why is it that the prettiest flowers are always the quickest to fade?

Riding Buddies

If Faith could talk, I think she might say one of her most favorite things to do with the baby is share the same car seat row. It could get a little lonely always being the one in the middle. But now she has a riding buddy. And she is frequently heard exclaiming in a smile with a point at her side, "BAHHH-BEEEE!".

Wrapping A Sack of Sugar

Two months after Faith was born, I discovered wrapping. Wrapping is simply using a long piece of cloth to wrap your child securely to your body. You can wrap your baby to the front of you or to the back in tens of ways. It is extremely comfortable and beats any kind of baby carrier by a long shot. Faith was the driving force to this discovery, as she craved a combination of being held upright while walking throughout the house - constantly. But it took me two months to find a solution to meet her needs, so I never had the delightful joy of wrapping a seven pounder onto my back and going about my day.

My first wrap jobs were so bad, they make me laugh out loud now looking at pictures of them. Thankfully, I've gotten so much better. That said, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about wrapping such a tiny nugget, but Hope has assured me, that she approves. And even though Hope is near perfect, she still has her own witching hour between 9:30 and 11:00 pm where nothing seems to work, except a close wrap and Mamma lulling her to sleep with the determined movement of finishing up chores. Just like in the womb.

This morning, in the chaos of running a household and homeschooling, I took a moment to breathe and capture our little duo. Every day I am reminded that Hope is bigger than yesterday. These days of tininess are so precious and go so quickly.

Pumpkining With Three Amigos

I have no idea why someone decided to decorate their pumpkin sale with sombreros. I never did take Spanish, so forgive me, but did I miss something in elementary school? Did the tradition of carving pumpkins originate in the remote hills of Chihuahua, Mexico?

That said, it sure did make for some festive photography around piles and piles of overpriced pumpkins, overshadowed by giant Mexican hats. Plus for as long as this kid sat down scrutinizing pumpkin candidates, he was bound to get sunburned without protection.

Maybe...there are only five degrees of separation between a pumpkin patch and a fiesta. I can vouch that there are just two degrees of separation between a pumpkin patch and an empty wallet.