Last night, HH and I attended our church's oh-so-swanky auction at the Skirvin Hotel, so, Friday, my husband asked me what I was planning to wear. I made a gesture toward the closet and said, "Something black."  I then thought for a moment and said, "I think I need new black shoes though." "Go buy some," he said. I do so love those three little words. So it was that after I dropped Bear off at school, I was headed for DSW shoes when my car made a sudden right turn a mile or so beforehand and pulled into the parking lot of our local nursery.  They didn't open until 8:30, and it was only 8:15 so I called to check in with my mom.  I told her I was going to buy shoes, but . . . . "Where are you," she said. I explained about the car. "Oh,...

Several of you asked about the chickens.   Well, as you can see, they're growing, but not crowing (yet . . . I think there are a couple of roosters in there).  Those sweet baby chicks from a mere three weeks ago have morphed into ugly ducklings half clad in feathers on their wings and bodies, while gentle fluff remains on top of their heads.  Poor babies.  They remind me of human children in that stage before adulthood when arms and legs are too long, and acne abounds. They are fast moving and flying all about their cage, but they are ugly little clucks.  Before long, they will be covered with feathers.  At this stage, I still don't know all the breeds, because I bought an assortment of brown egg layers.  Alex, the yellow chick held in a previous post by Bear, is now a stripey black and white.  We tried...

Red-shouldered hawk outside my window This majestic creature (now correctly identified by Lisa at Greenbow as a Red-shouldered hawk) sat outside my kitchen window yesterday.  HH called to me from the great room where he could see him clearly from the French doors and windows along the back of the house.  I snapped a few photos before the hawk caught sight of us and flew off, up over the treetops.  I wonder if he was the same hawk I saw a week ago as I drove down the street into our neighborhood.  That hawk had an unlucky squirrel in his clutches which must have been heavy because he swooped in low over the car and dropped the squirrel onto the street in front of me. Such are the realities of my country life. Rosa Winner's Circle,  a climber in the Knockout rose family and a great performer Although we are...

One of the gifts of growing older is I'm no longer bored.  When I was a child, it seemed like many days dragged by in a slow-moving haze.  Now, weeks fly by in a burst of activity.  So it is, one day, we've just entered school, and suddenly, we're already celebrating All Hallows' Eve, the day before All Saints' Day, otherwise known as Halloween. Only my youngest child dresses up anymore.  You might think it sad, but, although I enjoyed providing costumes for three, squirming children, not having to anymore is a relief.  Also, Bear, being the youngest of four children (our oldest is grown), always knows exactly who or what she wants to portray.  Last year, she went retro as a ghost, and she took home a haul of candy.  Parents loved her in an inexpensive sheet because they said it reminded them of their childhoods.  This year, she...