I dare you to find another title on the internet like that.
So last night was our big, end-of-year homeschool shindig. The kids sang and played music for us and we got to look at all of their artwork. Now I have not a single artistic bone in my body so I’m am always downright amazed at the things accomplished! And the teachers? I’m pretty sure they’re the most amazing women on the planet, always coming up with new ideas and then actually herding the kids in the proper artistic direction while still allowing them to do their own thang. I have no idea how they do it. I was completely skipped over when that mommy gene was handed out. Me no grok.
So how do I contribute to the homeschool coop? Ah, see, my great talent is sitting in the nursery doing nothing but watching some really stinking cute young kids for a couple of hours each week. That’s it. I sit. I flap my jaws at a friend who is in there with me. I giggle at the kids’ antics. And that’s it. So what does one of these amazing superwoman teachers do? She bought each of her kids’ teachers a big, ol’ potted plant with gorgeous flowers. And she bought on for me, too. Can you believe that? I’m still in shock — in a good way. It completely made my day. She does all of these great things for & with my kids and she bought me a flowery gift. I’m a loser and never think of doing thoughtful things like that — but I’m a happy, grinning, giddy loser. I LOVE my flowers and will get warm fuzzies forevermore when I gaze upon them. Once it warms up, I think I’ll hang them on my front porch.
Wanna see them?
Violas. I know nothing about them, other than I love, love, love looking at them. I’ve always wanted some! I’ll have to do some reading up on their care so I don’t kill them.
Wait a minute… What is that the violas are sitting on? Hmmm….
Yeah, you caught me. I bought chicks. I happened to be in the feed store yesterday and noticed they were clearancing out their chicks. Bam. Ten Buff Orpingtons hopped in my cart through no fault of my own. Once I managed to break the news to Steve, he weakened and suggested we might go back after the kids’ concert and see what was left. Bam. Eleven more Buff Orpingtons jumped into our cart, through no fault of my own. So we’re now the proud owners of 21 Buff Orpingtons, supposedly all pullets. Because we don’t have enough birds.
Which is why I also fired up the Pokebator. Fifteen Icelandics are working their way towards hatching.
Birds are cool and you can’t have too many. If you’re lucky, you, too, might end up with a Porch Chicken. That one bird who flaps to her own beat, refusing to go into the coop each night. Instead, she perches on random crap you leave on your porch. And poops. All night long.
Then you’re forced to leave the piles of crap on the porch because, if you move it, she’ll have no place to roost. And then the other birds that still free range, during the day, figure that the porch must be quite the cool place to be and decide to hang out there as well. Pooping all day long.
And people have this romantic idea of free range birds. Ha, I say. Ha.