On a Happy (Peeping) Note

Baby CHICKENS!!

Straight from Meyer Hatchery, straight run, 25 baby meat and 26 baby eggs (well technically half eggs and half meat in the end really, since I don't keep all of the boys in the egg group).

Baby Meat

Baby Eggs

It always amazes me. I never get tired of being in awe of this thing:

You can take a newly hatched, just-dried baby chicken and pop it into a box along with 24 or so of its relatives, close the lid, and send it halfway across the country. It will arrive, 36 hours later more or less, peeping and alert and active. Dip it's beak into the waterer for safety, so it knows where to find fluids, and after a quick run around it's new environs, it settles down for a brief nap before jumping up to chase its siblings and assorted relatives, or catch errant spiders and flies, or peck at chick starter. 

I won't even wax poetic about the whole 'egg to chicken' miracle. I'll save that for another time. For now I am maternally contented, compulsively checking brooder temperature and chick behavior, and explaining to Yoshi that 1.) I am not hiding the baby chickens from him in my pockets and 2.) I am not taking him outside to consume all the baby chickens. 

The other thing I find amazing is the significant differences between baby meat and baby eggs in terms of behavior. The meat birds are pushing to be twice the size of the layers already, with a couple of exceptions in the layer batch - which leads me to believe I have a couple of Cochins, with big fluffy feet and larger bodies. The layers are very interested in their entire surroundings - they peck at the sides of the brooder, chase bugs, and "play" with shavings. They play games of "tag" with their siblings by finding something amazing and running off with it, peeping at the others to give chase. The meat are interested in two things: food, and water. Three things: MORE food. They are louder, more "assertive", and were quick to get into their single deceased compadre's little fluffy corpse. (True fact: things die - sometimes baby things. It's part of livestock, part of farming, part of being an omnivore). By comparison the layer chicks had not pecked the body of their dead brother. They just sort of huddled over him (or her). I suspect this is more the natural behavior of the chicken - clustering around the weak link until forced to acknowledge failure. Survival of the flock versus survival of the fittest. 

Now I get to spend today fussing and being maternal, while taking pictures of the layers once they've had a chance to warm up and settle in and compare them to online chick photos to determine what breed they are. I got an assortment. I love grab bags. SURPRISE ME!! Definitely got 3 White Crested Black Polish...two Golden Laced Polish...maybe some Welsummers...and if I am very lucky some Penedesencas and Favorelles! Only time will tell!

I love baby days!

So, apparently, does my little Silkie rooster, who's obviously gone all soft and maternal on me.

Guest Blogger, With Fur, Of Sorts

I am gearing up for teaching at Webs this weekend! 2-at-a-Time Socks and Toe-Up 2-at-a-Time Socks on Saturday and Sunday. There's still time to sign up if you haven't yet. I'd love to see you there!

Yoshi blogged about Boo today. It's easier for him than for me. Click through to read his post. I probably won't write about it. Feels like way too much for me to talk about.

I still remember silky head and puppy breath and when I think about it for long it takes my human breath away, and I have to get tissues and take a moment. So for now, read what Yoshi has to say, and read this, which is my official dog grief poem:

THE POWER OF THE DOG

Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way

From men and women to fill our day;

But when we are certain of sorrow in store,

Why do we always arrange for more?

Brothers and sisters I bid you beware

Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy

Love unflinching that cannot lie--

Perfect passion and worship fed

By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.

Nevertheless it is hardly fair

To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years that nature permits

Are closing in asthma or tumors or fits

And the vet's unspoken prescription runs

To lethal chambers, or loaded guns.

Then you will find--its your own affair

But--you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will

When the whimper of welcome is stilled (how still!)

When the spirit that answered your every mood

Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,

You still discover how much you care

And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way

When it comes to burying Christian clay.

Our loves are not given, but only lent,

At compound interest of cent per cent.

Though it is not always the case, I believe,

That the longer we've kept 'em the more do we grieve;

For when debts are payable, right or wrong,

A short time loan is as bad as a long--

So why in Heaven (before we are there)

Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

You Say Work Trip, I Say Vacation!

We are just back from Chincoteague, Virginia where we spent a truly delightful four days; six if you include the driving time. It's about 460 miles from home, which took us about 10 hours on the way down and about nine on the way back. That means six days away from home, four of which we spent living it up.
Mr. W and I have always gone over the Tappan Zee Bridge into New York. We've been to Washington, DC, Florida, Virginia, Pennsylvania... we NEVER get on route 95 until we're well past New York. This time, however, we had a change of heart. The GPS was nagging us, and traffic in Hartford at route 84 was heinous. We tossed the dice, and kept heading south; through Hartford, Stamford, on down into the Bronx and across the George Washington Bridge. What a mistake! We sat for at least an hour in barely rolling traffic on 95 in CT - tree work, for the most part, impeding our progress. You'd think an hour more or less would not be a big deal, but when it's spent rolling along at a snail's pace, it matters. By the time we arrived in Chincoteague we were wiped out.

We checked into our favorite - the Hampton Inn. We have a Hampton problem, and not just because of the points cards. The consistency and comfort appeal to us. Hampton is right in the middle of things - competitive prices with comfortable, clean rooms. And this particular one gave us a peaceful and comfortable view of the channel.

Best of all, SoXperience happens there! SoXperience is a weekend retreat on Chincoteague Island. This year, I was honored to be teaching for Caroline Hershey and Melissa Abbott of Carodan Farm. We'd decided on a one-day work shop for Toe-Up 2-at-a-Time Socks, with bookends - on Friday, a presentation about what goes in to writing a book, and on Sunday, a refresher of the previous days' class with an introduction to 2-at-a-Time top down socks.

Mr. W and I had a lovely dinner at a place called Etta's Channelside on Thursday night before we crashed in a heap of sleepy-old-person.

Gene had scallops and I had rockfish - it's what we know as striped bass, or striper. The fish (both scallops and striper) was perfectly prepared, and heaven knows it's hard to get fish right!

On Friday, rain was predicted. Biking and hiking were out, so we headed south to Melfa, VA and the Blue Crab Bay Company. I have a serious addiction to their Sting Ray mixer, seafood seasonings, and their spicy peanuts. It's bad. Really, really bad. But I love it! We stopped in at the Blue Crow Antique Mall in Keller, VA. I snagged a super-cute, up-cycled picture frame for Girl and Gerbil, and an antique glass juicer for myself. I have coveted glass juicers for so long but always hesitated. This one grabbed me and I had to have it. I think it may be uranium glass. Mr. W, the nuclear spouse, and me with a radioactive juicer.

After our shopping venture down the Delmarva, we headed to Carodan Farm to meet Caroline. I was worried that she'd think I was an illusion if I failed to introduce myself. I am most of the time not an illusion. Her shop is lovely - high ceilings, perfect lighting, and a large assortment of her brilliantly dyed Chincoteague Colors yarn displayed right inside the door. Did I buy some? Of COURSE!

I bought two skeins of Channel Collection in colorway Dusk on Chincoteague, and one of Cove Collection in colorway Trumpet Vine. I would have bought more, but the presence of Mr. W restrained me. Under normal circumstances I'd be spending what I earned before I'd earned it. Now that they're home, what will they be? Time will tell!

On Saturday we had an amazing class - Caroline's students are wonderful. They were engaged and ready to learn, and welcoming of a new face in their crowd. I'd love to teach them again. Sunday's review and introduction to top down 2-at-a-Time went well in spite of the students' wandering eyes and minds and hearts. The last day of a retreat can be hard - people are itching to leave, but yearning to make those last-minute connections with their friends, old and new. But I have a job to do, and so I dragged them right on through casting on for knitting two at a time in spite of themselves! (I WIN!!!)

Once the students headed out, it was playtime for Mr. W and me. On Sunday we grabbed lunch at Sea Star (if you're on the island you MUST go there!) and then we biked to Assateague, rode on various bike paths, then headed "home" for a "swim" in the "pool". (Puddle. Pool. It's all the same when you're looking for a dip, right...? The pool is TINY for a lap swimmer. Painful almost!) Monday looked much the same, with island pony chasing, but never really finding, and a swim.
But.
When we were packing up the bikes in the parking lot on Assateague after our last ride? PONIES APPEARED!
From nowhere! Ponies, right there, mere inches away from us!

Now comes the best part - here's our weekend in pictures:

 Assateague near Tom's Cove - You wish you were here!

 A Winsome Shell

 Shore Birds (Non-Jersey Variety)

 Mr. W. and Shorebirds

 Tracks

 Assateague Lighthouse

 Pony mare and foal

 SPRING!

 Quackers!

 Pony Overlook. No ponies, but poop aplenty!

 End of the Bivalve Trail on the Assateague Woodland Loop

Someone left a heart behind. Mr. W. made it all about MMO. Smart man, really.

I have a serious shell problem.

Horseshoe Crab, borrowing at Swan's Cove. Had to be eleven inches across; biggest I've ever seen.

Dances With Waves (aka Mr. W. trying to retrieve a conch shell from the incoming Atlantic)

Tradition dictates feet in the water.

 Parking Lot Pony gets a drink

 Parking Lot Ponies head for Pony Overlook.

Can we go back now?
I love home, but I am going to miss Chincoteague. What a wonderful spot, and a wonderful weekend!

Busy Bee!

It's been hectic here for a while. I started work on a book proposal, and then Mr W got quite ill with an awful chest cold, and about ten days later - after much energy expended in avoiding the inevitable - I got it too (cough, cough, hack, wheeze!).
The good news is - I finished the proposal for a fourth book! The bad news is... there is no bad news really. Except that although the writing part is done I had wanted some images to attach to the proposal. Oddly no one wants to pose for pictures for someone who hacks loudly into the phone, then says "Tho, hey, I deed dum pik-durs for dis brobozull...." (bad imitation of stuffy-nose MMO there - translated that reads "So, hey, I need some pictures for this proposal", in case you couldn't understand - which would not be a surprise to me, really!)
I am VERY excited about going to Virginia next week for SoXperience. We love the island. Mr. W is coming along and we are leaving the home fires in the capable hands of Girl and her own personal Mr. W.
Oh goodness. Did I ever share wedding pictures? Who wants to see wedding pictures? Because this was an amazing wedding!
So, somewhat out of order we have....
Girl and Mr. Wonderful breaking it down. There's a video that goes with this... because it was an Epic Father Daughter Dance

 A tree with birdhouses, which makes no sense unless you were there, and may also make no sense if you WERE there...

 A house for cards - keep in mind the bird house thing - and hankies for happy tears

 Most amazing shoes EVER! Custom designed Converse high tops created by Nate Brasells - I know there's nothing in the shop now, but message them and ask! These shows are amazing, a total amalgamation of Girl and Jerbil, from video game motifs to scripture versus to Jamie Cullum references and SO much more. Just amazing, all in full color on a pair of sneakers!

 A Girl and her Grandpa

 A Girl and her husband. Akk! Girl (that's her, far left!) has a HUSBAND!!

 Toe tapping in those high tops!

 Girl and Jerbil entertaining us, Minecraft Style...

 Love Birds atop the cake (awesome cake from Emily at Second Street Bakery

 Our amazing staff at The Blue Heron

 Me and Girl. Which is scary, because I don't feel old enough to have a married daughter!

 Too Many... oh click the link, you'll figure it out.

 Mr. W and his mom

 And... mom and dad, aka, Mr. W and me.

Hopefully this tides you over until I can write something about knitting!

Chlorine and Colds and Books, Oh My!

Early last week Mr. Wonderful complained of a slight bit of a cold-coming-on feeling. I told him he was fine, which is what I do. I also say that to people who are limping, bleeding, or hanging over the porcelain throne in abject misery. "You're fine." I say, "Suffering builds character!"

Then one night late last week we swam and had a class in the pool. Mr. W spent a little time before class in the hot tub, where chlorine is usually higher than in the pool. The chlorine levels in the air seemed high to everyone at the beginning of class. I didn't really notice; I don't even smell it any more! Anyway, as we got aerobic doing our water jogging, we were all suddenly taken with coughing fits. I felt light-headed, hot, and agitated, as if I wanted to run away from where we were without really knowing why or where I should be going. I felt fuzzy in the brain, and generally not well. I felt most uncomfortable where I was. I pulled off my swim cap and kept going under water in an attempt to cool off. Everyone's eyes burned fiercely. People complained of feeling off, hot, not well, uncomfortable. We moved to deep water work, which means less cardio, and still we were not comfortable. One woman asked for the fan to be turned to face her because she could not breathe. Everyone complained of some level of discomfort. We left after class. Eyes still burning, Mr. W and I coughed all night long.

The next day I headed to the pool for lap swim with eyes still burning. I then learned that a critical ventilation fan was not working correctly, and instead of pulling the heavily chlorine laden air from the pool it was recirculating it within the pool room. In other words, there was no ventilation in the pool area at all. Doors were opened and fans placed, but still the chlorine was strong enough to cause many people to leave early.

The next day Mr. W. was beginning to look very ill - his "little cold" has taken on symptoms more consistent with bronchitis or pneumonia. He never gets sick, and when he does it lasts for 2-3 days at most. So far, two folks present at the pool during this two-day period have been treated by their doctors for eye problems as a result of the high chlorine levels in the air. Everything I swallow tastes odd and faintly chlorinated, and my eyes still sting a little. I cannot wait for summer and open water. My concerns about my swimming ability are being tempered by the thought of all these chemicals and what they may be doing to us. Scary! Better a nice fish-filled lake than a pool full of chlorine!

I've saved the fun bit for last, if you're still reading. What if I said I was working on a book proposal? Maybe another book? Just one more, because I can't resist? Or maybe two more? Or three?

For now, we'll take it one book at a time. Maybe no one will want to publish it, and the proposal will languish in some in-or-out-box for months. Maybe it will be rejected flat out, off hand, before they even read it, and it will head directly for the nearest circular file. But maybe... maybe someone will want it. Time will tell - but here's hoping that there's more than 3 books in me!

*tap tap tap* Is This Thing On?

Hello, blog. Long time, no see. Just thought I'd stop by and share a few things.

First, Girl (who is now an old married lady!) and I went to the local butterfly museum with friends recently. We saw some lovely things, and spent some time in the delicious 85 degree air. Mmmm! An excellent break from winter!

They have a lovely koi pond...

brilliant hibiscus...

and of course...butterflies!

It was wonderful to just walk and sit and stretch in the warmth. Made me wish I was a butterfly. Although in a manner of speaking, I am!

Second, Yoshi has been unmanned. Sad but true.

He took it like a trooper, and survived very well. His stitches are out, and the cone of shame has been removed, and he's back to his regular old self. On the first night he convinced me that his buster collar was too big, so I cut a couple of inches off. In the middle of the night I caught him licking places he should not have been able to lick, so I taped the cut-away section of collar back on.

Stylin', right? Who wouldn't want to wear a cone adorned with purple tie-dye duct tape? I really just grabbed the first tape that came to hand, and this was it. I still am in awe of how well he handled the whole process, especially the cone. I really expected him to freak out, but he came out of surgery with it on and just accepted it as part of life. He was very relived when it came off, though - lots of scratching and rolling and licking went on.

I've been knitting madly on the contents of Kristen Rengren's Vintage Baby Knits book. I took this on a couple of years ago, but haven't applied a lot of time to it until suddenly, lately, when I felt compelled to go into attack mode.

I love this book. I cannot say how much I truly LOVE this book! From the top left, here's Betty Lou Cardigan, Audrey Hoodie, Pearl Shrug, Milo Soakers, Floyd Pullover, and Louise Cardigan, with the Billie Beret in the center. I am currently finishing up the Rufus Textured Cardigan. You don't need babies in the offing. Just start knitting, that way if one pops up, you're prepared!

It's been a busy winter - I even learned how to swim! It's kind of a big deal for me because I am very afraid of the water and had never been able to learn before. I think it helps that the pool is always around 84 degrees. It makes it easier to be less scared when you're running away from winter!

Life Happens

I've been asked a couple of times lately why I haven't been blogging. There's so much I could say about that, so many excuses I could give. The truth is that, as the title of this post says, life happens. Sometimes life happens in a way that you don't want to share, or that makes sharing complicated.

Since my mother's death I've spent a lot of time thinking and pondering my life; what it looked like then, what I wanted it to look like, and how divergent those two visions and experiences had become. When I first commenced to write 2-at-a-Time Socks my life was fairly uncomplicated. Kids were grown, things were stable and settled, and the chaos that comes with writing and launching what turned out to be a very popular book seemed manageable.

My mother had her first heart attack the weekend before I delivered the manuscript for 2-at-a-Time Socks to Gwen Steege at McCusker's Market in Shelburne. I went directly from the market to Springfield to bring her home from cardiac catheterization. It marked the beginning of a complicated time in my life. In brief, the second book was delivered to Gwen the day after a fierce ice storm on the day that my mother had a spinal fusion -  Gene drove me to North Adams to drop everything off, and we went directly from Storey to Mercy Hospital. By the time I started working on TYV Circular Knitting, I had lived through most of Lyme. All three boys married between October of 2010 and July of 2011. My mother's condition declined further, and as I shared here she died on November 13, 2011. Girl - the same Girl you met here in 2005 - is getting married in a matter of days. In between there's been moves (mine, my mothers - three times, Girl's - first off to college and then into an apartment of her own), changes, alterations, adaptations, stresses, joys, sorrows, and celebrations.

Life happens. Seven years have flown by. Much has been amazing, and I am so grateful for the blessings I've received. But much has been painful, and there is a lot I would choose to forget.

It is not uncommon for me to change the course of my life. I have been many things, and hope to be many more. Right now I am playing around with my life, trying to determine where I am headed next. Thank you for sharing in this part of the adventure. I am not sure if the blog will continue or not, but thought you should at least get a little insight into what's been going on here. What's going on is change, and even I am not sure what that means yet!