a chicken lesson

Now class, let's review. Who remembers what this is called?

Very good! It's called MOLTING. Now, what happens when chickens MOLT?

YES. They turn into awkward teenagers! Their feathers fall out and the backyard looks like a chicken murder scene! That's right!

Do they die after they molt? No.

Do they keep laying eggs while they molt? That's right, no.

Does mama have to go to the store and (GASP!) BUY eggs?? YES. And it's SO SAD.

But don't worry. We will keep these girls happy and healthy as we head into fall and winter and they'll be back to laying in no time. We hope.

the funny kids return

Now that school is back in session, you know what that means!

FUNNY KID STORIES!!

First up is the cutie who wrote this on his exit ticket at the end of the day. They were writing about something they learned that day....

Oh. Em. Gee. HOW. SWEET. IS. THAT!!

our brand new life

I was going to make this a wordless wednesday, but then I realized... it requires words. Let me show and then tell.

See these beauties? They are from my son and husband. They gave them to me at Meet the Teacher.

Tomorrow we begin a new chapter in our family. We will be homeschoolers. Yes, Abby is still in her public middle school where she thrives and shines a light for Jesus. But Gavin, who has always been on a different path than his sister, starts at the Academy of Classical Christian Studies where I teach. He will be learning Latin (eek!) and all kinds of new things this year. And he'll be doing half of it with me.

I'm beyond excited, scared to death, bracing for the craziness, and feeling blessed for this last year of my children's elementary years being spent together.

Pray for us. I'm sure I'll need it.

teacher fist bump

Like all teachers, I've been in full-on back to school mode. We've had meetings and cleaning and greetings, oh my!

It's all good stuff! But it can do a number on the brain after you've made and labeled a thousand things for your classroom. You can become distracted easily, when your brain is going at a constant pace. .....I forgot to write names on the poster....Oh! I need another set of name labels for those new books!....shoot, I still need to make that seating chart for Matins....

So you can see how the following, epic event, might have occurred when my brain was on overdrive.

Yesterday we had Meet the Teacher. It's like Back to School night, but it happens in the morning instead. I had met a lot of new faces and of course, my precious new littles. I was swimming in thoughts that begged for paper to be written on. I realized, like most teachers, that I needed to pee and it was now noon.

Teachers have the most amazingly large bladders. Can I get an amen?

So I headed to the bathroom, still thinking and thinking and THINKING.

And that's when it happened. I lifted my skirt and sat on the toilet.

WITH MY UNDERWEAR STILL ON.

Let's rest on that thought for a moment...........

Because THAT, my friends, is the perfect example of a frazzled and tired brain.

p.s. Not to worry, I DID figure it out before any accidents happened.

cousins, cousins, here come the boys!

Every summer begs for a vacation, doesn't it? This year I decided to take the fam out to Georgia to visit my sister and her family. We had the best time, with lots of swimming, parties, and visiting on the porch with tea. Or coffee.

Whatever. It's a southern thang.



One day while we were there I heard G with one of the twins wrestling in the other room. I knew they were wrestling because there was a lot of grunting and breathing and very little talking.

Then out of the quiet came this voice, "STOP. WRESTLING!" (Abby)

And then after a short pause... "NOW. Which earrings should I wear today? The diamonds? Or the flowers?"



Rumor reports that they actually did pause at this moment and reply: "flowers."

bad bed fellows

HOLY MOTHER OF ALL RODENTS.

A few nights ago, I went out to the coop after dark to check for eggs. I did like I always do when I go after dark: I turned on all the backyard lights so I could see. (It's still dark, by the way.) Sometimes I take my phone for a light source, but not that night. Oh no. Not that night.

There are two doors to my coop. One for them to enter and exit through and one that's directly behind the nesting boxes. I lift that door upward each day to retrieve my eggs.

But this night, as I innocently lifted the door to grab my rightful items, I saw movement in the coop. It ran from the exit door to the edge of the egg retrieval door. And fast! My first thought was: RAT!!! Because pretty much any rodent is a rat to me. But upon closer examination, I realized it was a (young) nasty hungry POSSUM.

So of course, I screamed. And he stood there staring at me. I thought I might be on the verge of one of those scenes where the squirrel jumps out of the tree and straight onto Uncle Eddy's FACE, so I dropped the door and caused a loud slam.

I waited a minute for him to realize I meant business and leave, but when I lifted the door again, he was still standing there. What the heck! Did he think I was there to PLAY?? Was he not afraid of my loud door slamming show?

Apparently not.

And then I did what any normal, rational woman would do. I went inside and sent my husband out.

And do you know what he did?



That's right. HE TOOK A PICTURE.

If you're waiting for an end to this story that includes the demise of that possum or my sweet chickens, for that matter, then you're bawking up the wrong tree. (Ba dum bum chshhhh. Sorry, had to do it.)

We went inside, hoped he'd be gone by morning, and googled possums. Apparently THEY EAT EGGS. Mmmmm, how nice. The next morning I saw that evidence for myself. The two fake eggs we leave in the nesting boxes to stimulate production have little bite marks all over them like he had held it like a corn cob and gone to town.

It must have been terribly unsatisfying for him. Because we haven't seen him around again.