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Nine 4-week-old buff orpington pullets, six 4-week-old barred rock pullets, six 4-week-old rhode island red pullets, three 7 1/2-week-old rhode island red cockerels, and three 2-weekish-old rhode island red cockerels(we think). And by God's grace, they are living together under one roof in harmony. What's that? Why the purple stripes? Did someone breed your chickens from parrots? No, no. It looks like it though. Around the three-week mark, the barred rocks and rhode island reds started picking on the buff orpingtons as their little feathers started being kind of pokey-outy (yes, that's a technical term). So, after rescuing 7 out of 9 tiny yellow birds from the cannibalism of their flock-mates, i decided to go ahead and spray the blue wound-kote product on all of their necks and tail-feathers for prevention. It worked too. I think they like me. What do you think? The flock is currently housed in this wonderful (i really love the design) outdoor brooder that my husba

A discussion on another blog some months ago got me thinking about what God thinks about lying. It has always puzzled me a bit that Rahab, the harlot, lied to the guards for the Hebrew spies, and this was counted to her as righteousness - indirectly i think. Other examples come to mind of people throughout history, known for their integrity and often Christians, who we think must have lied. For example, the Quakers in colonial times who smuggled and hid escaped slaves and the people who hid Jews from the Nazis. If a Nazi guard asked me if i knew of the location of any Jews, and i had 25 hiding in my attic, but i told the guard that i knew nothing, did God count that as sin? Anyway, this got me looking. And so i asked my parents, who did a little research for me in their wonderful study books. And they found some interesting information. As you may know, the Hebrew language is very complex, so when the Hebrew text is translated to English, scholars have the difficult task of trying

I haven't blogged in a while. After the great excitement of finally having a chicken grow old enough to lay eggs, said beautiful chicken was abducted by some wild predator and made to be a short and unkind dinner. The finality of that sort of thing, specifically after all the grand trouble we had trying to keep our six chickens alive and healthy (and our ignorance and ill-preparation causing much of the problem), the final defeat of it made me sad. I suppose it didn't make me sad, exactly. But i was, nonetheless, sad in response to this defeat. I don't like to write so much when i'm sad. I guess i'm just not a share-your-sadness-with-the-world kind of person, or maybe i'm too prideful to let you know i'm sad until it's over. I don't apologize for being sad, really. I think acknowledgement of loss and a time of sadness is appropriate and healthy. I just don't really want to write home about it (or anywhere else). Today, i am happy. Today,