A member of our flock; Trevor has been away for most of the summer. He spent a few weeks at Fort Knox doing basic training for the Army and now he’s at Fort Bragg participating in airborne training. While he was able to get mail at Fort Knox, for whatever reason he’s not allowed to get mail at Fort Bragg.
When Trevor is away at these training sessions I usually send postcards with a drawing and a short note, nothing too complicated and hopefully nothing too embarrassing. I’d like to think that he enjoys getting these messages from home. We’re thinking about you buddy. Continue reading
When the kids were younger, I’d make sure they all had costumes for Halloween.
I never did anything scary, not like this lady I found participating in a zombie walk
Or this zombie bride on her iPhone (which is scary on so many levels.)
As our family grew, so did our costume collection.
Emma is hiding in my tummy and wouldn’t show for about 2 more months.
These days, only a few of the kids get dressed up for Halloween (others only want to stay indoors and play video games online.)
As for me, oh I’ll still put on something to greet the neighborhood kids as they come around to knock on our door,
but as soon as that porch light turns out, I’ll be in my jammies reading one of the several good books I have going, secure in the knowledge that all my chicks know enough to keep safe when goblins, witches, and various other scary people in our town abound.
Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at Wendy@SimpleThrift.com
Also, join me on Facebook to find out more about the flock (children and chickens) and see some pretty funny chicken jokes, photos of tiny houses, and even a recipe or two.
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This post isn’t so much about chickens as it is about the chicken community.
Last week, when I mentioned in a Friday post that Marc was fixing our mailbox, I was contacted by a reader. It’s the original mailbox that was here when we moved in and has not only survived 20 years on the post but has also survived being hit by the town snowplow.
But time eventually takes its toll on all. Screws rust and parts fall off.
Marc figured out a way to jury-rig the door which had rusted off (hey it was still serviceable right?) and we thought we could hold off getting a new mailbox until it was absolutely necessary. Why spend money unless you need to – a common philosophy amongst mama hens of large flocks.
But then the reader (friend, co-townie, co-chicken owner) sent me email saying that he had a spare mailbox in his garage that he wasn’t using. Did I want it? Continue reading