Blue Yonder

This Isn't Goodbye

It's been a very tough day. Very. 

It started yesterday, when I was at my sewing table and heard this very strange noise from the backyard. I walked out there and waited, staring at the chicken coop, and sure enough, saw and heard Rosemary crow. There was no mistaking it. This was not a hen noise. It was an honest to goodness, sing up the sun, wake the dead, cockadoodledoo. 

For a split second I was elated. My little boy! Growing up! It was this gorgeous, throaty, wonderful green grass and blue sky sound. Fantastic. 

And then, my heart sank because I knew the implications. Rosemary is a boy, a rooster, and that means he has to go. Why did it have to be my favorite? Why did it have to be the funniest, friendliest, most personable of the bunch? Why Rosemary?

 I sent out notices to all our homeschooling email groups, and checked Craigslist, thinking that it might take me some time to find a new home for our guy. 

It didn't. Within a couple of hours we found the best solution we could possibly hope for. A nice family that runs an art studio on acreage, not too far from us, was willing to take him. They have a white turkey, guineas, peafowl, and lots of chickens. They also have children and don't mind if we visit. 

And so, through many tears, we began our goodbyes. We talked a lot about all the reasons we love Rosemary. We considered changing his name, but Ryder would have none of it. We talked about how roosters need room to roam and space to crow in, and how many new friends and how much fun he will have. We tried to look on the bright side - he will be well cared for, and we will be able to visit. 

We held him and snuggled him, A LOT. 

I could see that it was going to be really important to help my grieving men work through saying goodbye, so we made it Rosemary Day - a celebration of our love for him, and for his new life. We gave him some special treats (toast and strawberry tops), and saved some of his feathers in bottles. We took lots of pictures of him and had some printed. Then, we painted and decorated special frames for each of their rooms. (In this first one, Ryder is putting a kiss on Rosemary's beak.)

We even took a cast of his foot. When it finally came time to take him to his new abode, my boys were excited for their fella. 

They were sad, sure, but a happy for him too, and I guess that's the best you can hope for in a goodbye.

 When we got home, my oldest went out to check on the remaining girls. I peeked out there and heard him praying, "Please God, look out for Rosemary. Keep him safe and help him make new friends." It was all I could do to hold it together. 

And now, now that they are all tucked in and sleeping, I'm going to go and sit down with a glass of wine and have myself a good cry. 

Ridiculous, I know. Silly, sure. 

I'm sure all the real farmers out there will have a good laugh over this sappy city girl and her foolish attachment to a chicken. But there it is. I miss my beautiful, sweet, lovable Rosemary. 

Feel The Noise

My kids are passionate about music.  

In fact, the very first time I felt my oldest move in the womb, was when I was sitting on the couch listening to the Glen Miller Orchestra play "Moonlight Serenade".

 I was certain that it was a sign that my child would be as taken with music as I am. 

Right then and there, I made it my mission to foster that love in any way that I could.

 I got a little giddy thinking of all the greats that I wanted them to experience - Ella Fitzgerald, Coltrain, Lennon, Hendrix, Vivaldi, David Bowie, Sting, Prince, Credence Clearwater, Tina Turner, Johny Cash, Mozart - I love it all. I'm crazy about folk music, singer songwriter tunes, classical, country, 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s - there's just so much to love! 

So, I can say with certainty that though I did not push them to take up instruments (no really, I promise!), I did my best to inspire that desire. 

And then something happened that I hadn't quite banked on... 

My middle boy got a radio for Christmas, and after much twisting and turning, found two stations that he loves: Rap, and Heavy Metal. 

Dear God.

 He had to go and pick the exactly TWO genres that I don't much care for. 

It's been a constant battle - me asking him to turn it down, him asking me for the 10th time, "Come listen to this song Mom! It's SO great!" 

I feel like I'm walking this line - on the one hand not wanting to squash his little creative spirit just because I don't care for his tastes, and on the other hand feeling the need to weed out stuff that I just don't think he's mature enough to grasp. 

I tried to explain to him that a lot of the songs he thinks "sound neat" have lyrics that are not appropriate for him. He said, "But I don't listen to the words, mama. I just, you know, FEEL the music." I had a flashback to when I tried to tell my grandmother that there was nothing at all wrong with Salt and Peppa's "Push It."  (which i believe was on the same album as Let's Talk about S*X"

I clearly remember thinking that I just liked the way the song sounded. I didn't care what it said or what it meant. 

Still. 

So, I told him that we'd work together to find some rockin' and rappin' (and kid friendly) kind of songs to download and make into a CD for him. You guys got any ideas?

Variations on a Theme

When I was in college, I rode the city bus to classes. There was this one seat that I liked, right behind the middle door of the bus.

 I don't know why that particular seat was so appealing to me. I never gave it much thought, but I can tell you that if someone else's fanny was in my seat when I boarded the bus, it could wreck my whole morning. 

I'm a creature of habit. I find a thing I like, and I go with it.

 If I like a particular author, I read every one of her books.

 I like a certain dessert, and I make it my mission to try 300 variations on the same theme.  

If I like a certain artist, or crafter, I pine for all their pieces. 

I order the same favorite dish in restaurants. Sometimes I think maybe I'll mix it up a bit, try something new, but then the waiter comes, and I blurt out, "Hacked Chicken Salad!" (an unfortunate name, if ever there was one), just like I have the past 10 times we've visited Mirabelle. I can't help it. I like what I know, and I know what I like. 

This isn't anything new for me either. My mom says that when I was 2, I ate pretty much nothing but Cheerios for months on end. 

So, it shouldn't surprise anyone that I found a shirt that I liked, and I went with it. I've made SIX and there are two more on the way. In my defense, a few of them are for my mom. It also shouldn't surprise anyone that my little apples haven't fallen too far from their tree. 

Every morning I hear the same thing from my littlest. He wants Jelly toast, milky, and a PEEP show (also an unfortunate name). We don't have TV, so he watches it online. There's only ONE episode a day, but he's perfectly happy to push play on the same episode as many times as it takes for Mama to snap out of her morning fog and move him on to something else. 

They have their fashion habits too. They want Bandana Pants, and they want them in every possible fabric choice. I think our house now boasts about 15 pairs. Five for each little set of legs. That ought to get us through the summer, right? So, I've decided that I really ought to be setting a better example - exhibiting a more adventurous spirit, really pushing the envelope and getting outside my comfort zone. So, wait for it.... I made a NEW pattern. Welcome to Simplicity 2931! This pattern even included really scary words like, "interfacing" and "gathering". I'm really pleased with it though. So pleased, that I might make another one. Or two. Or three :-)

Holding Our Breath

Okay, be honest... Does this look like a rooster to you? Here's the evidence: Waddles and comb that appeared way earlier than anyone else. A tail that is arched, not stubby and straight like all the other girls. Feet that are far bigger than every one else's feet. For that matter, all of Rosemary is bigger than the other girls. But she (a hopeful pronoun if ever there was one) is our favorite! She's funny and silly and more outgoing and friendly than the others. We love her! 

We know that we can't keep a rooster in the 'burbs, but none of us likes the thought of parting with our Rosemary. 

Twice now though, something has happened... Once, about a week or so ago, in the wee hours, when I was still half asleep, I would have sworn that I heard some kind of creaky potential crowing noises. I perked up, but never heard it again.

 Today, Luke said he heard "something loud and weird" from the coop. Later though, he wasn't sure it was from the coop and he couldn't really describe the sound. So now we're waiting, watching, and hoping that we don't have to find a new home for our Rosemary. Keep all your crossable parts crossed for us, will you?

It's Only Natural

I knew the minute that we saw them that James would have to have them for his birthday. And OH they are so loved! My guy is already talking about saving his pennies so that he can order a couple more sets. You know, for "really BIG castles!" 

Boys aren't the only little critters that enjoying natural wood playthings. Our girls got a new cedar roost yesterday. We found it on a walk in the woods yesterday and lugged it all the way home. It was most assuredly worth it, as they are clearly and undeniably a little giddy with joy over it. They hop on, hop off, hop on, hop off. If chickens could giggle, I know they would. I know it. 

It was Ellie who let us know that they would prefer a rough and natural branch to the smooth skinny dowels that we had been using. She was so right! So, for the others of you who are experimenting in poultry, grab yourself a branch! 

In other natural news, the garden at the Ranch is coming along. That, plus squash from grandmother's garden meant a really yummy dinner! 

If you find yourself with some summer squash too, try this: Cut it into thinnish, short pieces and toss it with pasta sauce, a little chopped onion, some mozzarella and some cooked italian sausage (we used three links, with the casings taken off). Pop it in a 350 degree the oven for 25 minutes or so, then top it with more cheese and bake until the cheese is melted and the squash is soft. My guys (who are pretty picky about veggies) LOVED it. They swore that it tasted like a pasta dish. 

We hope your weekend is delicious too!