A Christmas chicken

My mom gave me a rubber chicken for Christmas. What more could I have ever wished for?

Then she sat me down and made me watch the movie Chicken Run. Believe it or not, despite it being released ten years ago, I had never seen it.



Who doesn't love a rubber chicken?

The kids wouldn't stop fighting over the dumb thing on the ride home, so I squished it up above the rear view mirror of our car. After all, it is my chicken. His legs and head bobble up and down as we're driving... once he's thawed out. It's kind of a nice gauge of the temperature in the car. Once upon a time, (probably around the time Chicken Run came out) I had a ketchup packet in my car all winter. I would attempt to squish it once in awhile just to confirm my suspicion that it was, indeed, freakishly cold out.

Anyway, if you've ever seen the movie... you know what I mean when I say my chickens are not organized. They really can't fly either. Too bottom heavy or something. Lucky for mine, they have free run of the place and I don't keep track of who is or isn't laying eggs.

Hope

Because I haven't posted anything even slightly Christmasy and I just can't find the words...

Because it's been cloudy for weeks on end so I haven't done any night sky photos...

Because I've had a rotten attitude about everything lately...

Because I slammed my finger in the car door which means I don't feel like typing...


I'm re-publishing a post that originally went on this blog way back in March. Because I needed to read it again. Here it is:


Us humans, we are such limited creatures. We see what our eyes can see. We see what we think is there to be seen. We see what we are supposed to see.

The moon was huge as it rose the other night. As in, one glance out the window took my breath away. It was a full moon, and low in the sky the atmosphere warped the sunlight bouncing off it, which made it look even more enormous and impressive.

To my eyes (perpetually wearing corrective lenses because I honestly can't see anything on my own) the moon looked something like this.


Beautiful. Red. Slowly rising through wispy clouds.

Yet, there is more. So much more.

Open your eyes, open them wide.

You still can't see everything.

There is so much in this world we cannot see, so much we don't understand. Mysteries of life and death are confusing, and the world beyond this one we can only wonder at.

We are small. We get scared.

We want to see and know, and we try to understand.

Oh, do we try. And we fail.

But I have hope because I believe there is One who is bigger than me. A God that knows and sees and understands all there is. And He is. And He cares for me.

Even though I am small.

God is.


I believe in what I cannot see. Believing gives me hope.

That is not a sunrise... or a sunset.

That is the same full moon rising in the black night. (long exposure)

The moon looked nothing like that to my eyes.

But then, I cannot see.

So I put my hope in Him.

Making fish

I finally found out what our six year old wants for Christmas. What he really, really wants.

Just to put this in perspective, for his birthday last year he wanted plumbing. Pipes, couplings, hoses, and a pump... it was all he wanted. And believe me, his joy was complete.

I tell no lie.

For Christmas, he wants fish. Specifically, six inches long, with a one inch tail.

I love that kid so much.

Thankfully, I keep a shoebox stashed full of fish-making supplies. Living way out here on the frozen tundra, it would be nothing short of foolish not to.



That kid deserves to have fish.

I wonder if I should have measured them?

Before the storm

It's the old "a potent low pressure system will move into the northern plains... blah... blah... this storm will produce a significant amount of snow..." winter storm warning. Add that to a snow blower so shiny that it barely has a scratch in it's paint and you get one very giddy husband.

Two to seven inches of snow? Four to six inches of snow? Six to nine inches of snow?

Make up your minds already guys. Unless I'm mistaken, you get paid to tell us this stuff. Not that it matters. It is going to snow. Thank you. I appreciate that. I could tell you the same by simply observing my bouncing-off-the-walls children and grumpy we-will-not-leave-our-poopy-porch chickens.



Oh, what's that? Twenty-five mile per hour wind too?

Awesome. I was hoping to make it into town Tuesday, but it's really not a problem. I have no doubt my overflowing bins of number 2 plastic, steel cans (people, they're really not tin) and glass jars will be pleased to continue spewing their contents across my basement floor. And every time I hear that clinking and clattering as I inadvertently kick an escapee while making my way to the washing machine, I'll continue to be thankful for our local recycling center.

Be still my heart, it truly is a beautiful thing.



It was cold but gorgeous this evening afternoon. I lasted all of ten minutes before I couldn't move my fingers. So much for being the tough prairie woman that I see myself as. I need new gloves, I guess.

But I can wield that axe, I'll have you know!

Actually, it's too cold for that also now. I'm really not sure what my plan is for the extra little rooster who somehow didn't catch my eye when I was whacking heads. He's such a cute little guy, but the hens don't like him at all. At least I know there won't be any shenanigans going on so long as he's at the bottom of the totem pole.

Remember this old thing?



I can't believe it's still there.

But there it is.



This is what 4:30pm looks like here, a few days before the Winter Solstice.


{that ball shape in the bush is a snow-covered nest}

Cold, long blue shadows, sparkly snow, precious fading light.

In the peaceful silent stillness, our house rattled beside me. No, it wasn't the wind. It was my offspring.

Feels like a storm coming.

Both beaters

It's a beautiful thing, sometimes, when your brothers are trying to kill each other in the next room...



if the noise from their rough play is so extraordinarily loud that they never even heard the mixer...



and you get both beaters to yourself!

My third-hand lion

All he wanted was some lovin'. All I wanted was to keep him more than a foot and a half away from me for just a few seconds so I could get this shot.



Prior to that, we had a little commotion. I told him it wasn't classy to steal bread from the chickens and then smack them when they tried to take it back. Then again, chickens are thieves too. Maybe it was good for them.

Normally, he's such a gentleman, which is incredible since he'd been abandoned here by previous residents not once, but actually twice before we arrived. Doesn't that make him a third-hand lion?

I Heart Faces - Pets

Frozen

When I go out to the barn now, the anticipation is almost more than I can handle because I just don't know how many will be there.

I find them discarded along the path, sparkling with frost...

The cat? He is not amused.


{mouse-icle}

The dog slimes them up and tosses them around. Just for fun. I'm pretty sure the cat considers it a waste of precious resources.