I went out to check/feed/clean out the chickens and it feels like Spring wants to come. Of course, we have a few weeks yet. Sadly. The birds are all out and getting frisky though. My roosters are getting a bit cocky and strutting around like they own the place. Of course, I have news for them, and they know it too when I start walking toward them.
I know I am totally hooked on my chickens when I get all excited and giddy when I find an egg. I found someone is laying in the ark, but no idea who yet. I know a Welsummer is laying a nice, big, speckled egg in the other coop. Two nights ago, Eldest brought in a Silkie egg, and FINALLY, today I have a Sebright egg. So, that makes, I think 6 in all that I have collect eggs from. Now, if they could tell the other 32 or so how to do it. But you know, in another couple of months I am going to be going on about how I have all these eggs and not being able to sell them all.
I have been feeling under the weather this week. I really mean it too. I think the winter has gotten to me from a psychological standpoint. I feel guilty too. I have so little get up and go. On top of that, my darling boys have been sick and have shared a bit with me. I rested up and seem to have dodged a bullet there and feel pretty good today. I felt bad though because my best friend's mother passed away this week and I wasn't able to make it to the funeral because of my probable contagious state. I was sure that a big old truck was heading down the road to run my ass over and make me feel like crawling in a hole, but here I am, feeling better today.
The garden is still buried deep under the snow, but I hear it calling to me. I so look forward to warm sunny days that the sun will warm me as I dig and plant and weed. I love to weed. I know it is crazy, but it is such a simple activity to keep your hands busy while your mind has time to contemplate, to ponder, to wander and to muse. When my sister was killed a few years ago, it was my place to escape to think about her and the memories I had of times spent together with her. It is therapy for my mind and soul to be out in the earth and moving and making things clean and healthy, not choked and sickly. How better to heal the soul of losing a loved one than to be amidst the growing, living plants and organisms? When I die, I want to be cremated and my ashes scattered in my gardens. I am sure that is against the law, huh? But that is what I would want.
I must be off though. The post office called and my first batch of chicken hatching eggs are waiting there for me. Like I said, Spring is calling.
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