Chickening Out

I went to pick-up Miss Brunette from a slumber party. The mother said to me, "come to the back and see our chickens". Oh God, not another person raising chickens! "That's okay," I said.
"Don't you want to see them? They are really cute." "That's okay, I'm from Iowa. I know chickens," was all I could say.


OMG. Not again.


I have a long history with chickens. When I was 4 or 5, I took my doll Sandy over to visit
Mrs. H across the street (our old house). Her miserable rooster, named Freeman or something
commanding chased and pecked me back home. I left Sandy to fend for herself. Mrs. H called, feeling so bad, and asked me to watch "Another World" with her. We shared a pepsi (yes,
in those days, it was pepsi. I was from a pepsi drinking family).

My grandmother used to raise chickens. I hated it when it was time to butcher them (the word that was used). They did run around with their heads cut off. Grandma hung them upside down by the feet on the clothes line. My mother always helped her. They plucked and plucked. Guess what we had for lunch? Chicken. I would sit on the other side of the house, by the big tractor tire that had been painted white and was full of flowers. Grandma came up to me, "how are you ever going to live on a farm?" "I'm not," I told her.

Okay, I have to admit I didn't really eat that much chicken until after I was married and sort of got over it.

A couple of years ago, the girls and I were at MV nursery. I took them to see the chickens
there. They were there to control the scorpions and had hatched babies. The girls had a great time looking at them, while I was getting a tree. We were leaving and all of a sudden, Blonde Girl started screaming. This insane chicken had flown up to her shoulder and was pecking her. That hen knocked her down twice before I could run over to her. I started screaming and hitting the stupid chicken with my purse. Me, Blonde Girl and Miss Brunette all screamed bloody murder. No one came to help. That is how I got the 25% discount on my tree and all the shrubs I may ever need in my lifetime. I have never gotten the shrubs as Blonde Girl refuses to go there ever again.

Chicken. It is what's for dinner.

Sun Faces

This is the 3rd grade art project. They do sun faces. The top one was made by Miss Brunette in 3rd grade and the bottom one was done by Blonde Girl. love them. Blonde Girl describes hers as a "rainbow sun face."

Blonde Girl's face.

Miss Brunette's shady sun face. It almost makes me want to have had more children, so I can have morw of these cute sun faces. Amost anyway!

Okay, It Has Been Awhile

Love Man has been here since Wednesday. He has been on the computer a lot. Then,
when he is not on the computer - he is on conference calls. They conference for a long time. He is usually in the office. It is too funny. So, unlike the preschool world. You need to do this, do that, turn this in and sign-this. That's it!

The saguaro cacti are starting to bloom. They bloom in the early morning. I will be posting photographs. Just look at the buds!

Our saguaro is around 225 years old. They only grow so much a year. It takes 100 years for them to have arms. We have many, many arms and tons of holes pecked by birds. In fact, we think of our saguaro as an apartment house for birds.

The saguaro is now taller than our house. When I sit out in the sun, I can see it peeking over our roof line. Naturally, I find joy in this. You now how I am about plants. By the way, Love Man did tons of yard work while he was here. The yard didn't look so great when he arrived. He is the best raker that has ever lived. He goes back today.

Easter

By the way, Easter was good. We went to church and ate too much. It was not the same without Love Man, but we were all pretty tired and just hung out most of the day.

They looked adorable. Blonde Girl has a darling purple cardigan that she wore with this outfit. Her skirt had big stripes of various shades of purple, as she is a purple girl.

Jury Duty

I had jury duty today, municipal court. My friend's husband, who is a judge, wrote down the best bus to take. He takes the bus down there every morning.

I meant to wake up at 5:45 and instead got up at 4;45, which I did not realize until I was out of the shower. I took a small nap.

I phoned the Phx Metro to confirm that I could catch Super #7 in the spot I would be. "Oh, yes," she assured me. I left my house at 6:50 in the morning. I made BG sleep in her clothes. I had the breakfast, snacks, water bottles, and backpacks ready to go. BG did not like her breakfast, she started making mac and cheese as I left the house. I later worried that she left the stove on. NOTE: my girls can both cook. They were to walk to school with MB's friend.

I was in my spot as I waited for the Super #7 bus. It went right on by. Another bus came. I got on it and was told I could still get there. It would take longer. I arrived at the courthouse 2o minutes later, which was actually not a problem.

I sat there, while they called the panels upstairs. Finally, at noon names were read that were released and I was free. I headed back to Central Station and found out what bus to take home.
As I was walking across the street, this moron started rapping at me and saying lewd things.
I later stood by a guy covered in tattoos, including one over his eye. He told me he was going to go ahead and have the rest of his teeth pulled. The bus arrived. Everyone stared at me.
The crowd had certainly changed from the morning commuters. I read my book.

I should have gone the way my friend's husband said to go. I just didn't want to walk 14 city blocks.

I was glad to arrive home. I was even able to pick the girls up from school. I cancelled my
"back-up" to get the girls home.

Roses

My roses are starting to bloom. Love Man cuts the bushes in half in January. That gives us roses the size of our fists by April. On Thursday, I cut some dark red for the house. On Friday,
I decided I need some in a bowl. Two hours later, I cut white ones for the dining room and
tropicana pink for the kitchen table. I still have many roses left. I think I may have 15 bushes.
Five are new and just starting to grow. I will count the bushes later today!

It is raining. It rained most of the night. I told BG to stay in bed as there would be no soccer. "Did you call the number?" she asked. "No, it rained all night, rained this morning and there

was lightning. There is NO soccer today," I said. "I hope you are sure," she doubted. "Go back to sleep," and she did. Miss B is at a sleep-over that required us bringing her bicycle. We enlisted the help of our neighbor, John who answered the door with "what are you doing now?"

I should have brought in the variegated red and orange/yellow roses. They are probably very wet and bruised by the wind. My Mother-in-law always asks me what kind of roses I have.

I don't know, ones that grow. I know some are Tropicana, Christian Dior, Mr. Lincoln,

and the rest who knows. They are mostly dark red, pinks, but we have some white,

orange/yellow ones, and a red/white one that is very beautiful. It is almost too pretty to cut.

Neighbor John's wife cuts some for her house too. She usually doesn't tell me. I don't care, I told her along time ago to help herself. She waters them for me, when she thinks I need to or have forgotten. Or, am not watering them enough.

Coach Steve just called, "NO SOCCER". So there Blonde Girl!

Easter Weekend

Did you know there is some sort of shortage on the Cadbury mini-eggs? We love them and

always buy them. In fact, we bought some at Fresh and Easy late yesterday afternoon. They were even on sale. I would have bought more had I known. Apparently, some lady in Arkansas

went crazy and called all over the place looking for them. I don't know if I would go that far.

I love them them. Miss Brunette loves them as well. So, if you want those eggs and see them -

you'd better get two bags.