A drizzly day, which always strikes me as a gift. Went out just after seven this morning to let out the chickens. A mist was in the air, the sun was breaking through the clouds just a bit, and the hens were beginning to make noise. Damp, not so chilly, though it was only in the high thirties even then. But there's a huge difference in twenties and thirties. Almost warm.
I always speak to the girls before I open up the coop, taking off the safety latch that keeps the monsters out----slowly opening the door so's I don't scare them. They sort of mutter back to me, a quiet hen-sound. Then begin eating ravenously the bread I always give them as a morning treat. Some leftover seed from our Conure. Two are in the throes of molting now, the other two finished for the most part, and we're not getting any eggs at present. They're busy making new feathers, and have no energy to make eggs. I understand being a chicken is hard work.
So. Only at home with two youngest girls, and we'll have a quiet day. Leftover chili for dinner---actually made of Moose, from meat brought home from fourth son's work. His bosses go hunting every fall, and they gifted their employees. Makes me shudder to cook wild meat, but it's really very tasty. You just have to get over the fact that it's Moose. Bullwinkle. You know.
I need rest today. Turn off worries, which really aren't worries, but preoccupations that cause my mind to stumble along. Things about Mom. Our children. Things I can't change, but have to either accept or deal with in my head. Life.
Off I go.
