Imaginary blogging

I recently had conversations with some friends who wondered why I had stopped blogging.  It seemed like such an odd question because I felt like I HAD been blogging.

But I hadn't.   I assured them both that the next post was coming and it was going to be very entertaining.  Let's hope I succeed!

My process for blogging goes something like this:

Something happens that is interesting and I decide I should blog about it.  Then I spend some time pushing words around in my head.  I think about what I want to say, how I want to say it and I ponder the clever and entertaining aspects because heaven forbid I should be boring!  When I'm done pushing the words around, I dig out my laptop (because it's really the only time it comes out of the cupboard anymore) and I plug it in (because the battery is completely fried and it wont work without it) and I start it up.  Then I must go through a gazillion updates, error messages and spontaneous reboots.  THEN I fight our lousy internet (ever hear of ClearWire?) and eventually I put all those words down in what I hope is the right order and push the publish button. Where upon I immediately think of more clever ways I could have said something.

It's exhausting really.

Totally by accident I have stumbled upon this new and better way to blog:

Something happens that is interesting and I decide I should blog about it.  Then I spend some time pushing words around in my head.  I think about what I want to say, how I want to say it and I ponder the clever and entertaining aspects because heaven forbid I should be boring!    Then I just forget to do the rest.  I think I I've blogged, I feel like I've blogged and I don't have the frustrations of the computer and I never worry that I have made a typo or wasn't as clever as I could have been.

Apparently this new system doesn't work for everyone.

The cliff notes version of the posts that I have penned in my head in the last few months include:

Alpaca Maintenance:

Toenail trimming turns tragic! Cadbury kicks, drives trimmers through Peters hand.  

Alpaca Shearer wanted:

Looking for someone to help us shear our girls.  Called Camelot farms.  No response.  Called Shearers are Us.  No response.  Called MoonShadow Farms - referred us to Camelot farms (gah!) and SumFunShearing.  No response from either.  again.  Contacted The Camel people.  No response.  Contacted a girl in Olympia.  No response.  

New Handler Syndrome

Chupa has it.  I am sad.  

Applied for a new job!

No response.

Drowning in Zucchini

Zucchini bread.  Zucchini stew.  Zucchini boats.  Zucchini chips.  Zucchini salad.  Zucchini Zucchini Zucchini. 

Goats are NOT us

Seeking loving family for two high-maintenance goats.  Must promise not to eat them.  If you don't PROMISE you can't have them but you can have some zucchini.

Sparky has a personal chef

My beloved pup is unwell.  It is hard for her to eat so I am her personal chef.  She get's cheese omelets.  Chicken, hot dogs, fried dog food (not a hit), cat food, ice cream, cheese, zucchini..

Going to College

Taking an online food preservation course.  Learning how to can and freeze and dehydrate.  Not only do I get college credit but it will certainly come in handy for the zucchini.

Chicken update

We now have a thriving population of 12 chickens ~ 10 hens and 2 roosters.  Loving them!  

B&B

Pondering opening a bed and breakfast.  We only have one room but I've found a great zucchini fritatta I could feed guests for breakfast.

Sightseeing in Seattle

How many activities can YOU cram into a day in Seattle?

Master Jack, Ruler of the Universe

My grandson.

Imaginary Blogging

This one.  Except this post actually made it to the blog.

If I had actually managed to get these typed up it would have been a lot of blogging.  It sure felt like a lot of blogging.  I shall endeavor to try harder to do ALL the steps in successfully publishing posts.  Wish me luck!

Finally, in a store near you!

In a store near you if you live in Lynden.

I've been busy busy busy.  Knitting and felting.  SharonTopia has been getting filled with this and that and those and these.

I knitted and felted a basket:

I knitted a bag out of ribbon and lined it with some lovely yellow satin:

I researched ETSY and and other on-line sources to sell my lovely creations.  I was not happy with the process involved in selling through those avenues.  

Since I live in a tourist town.  Or at least a town that is desperately trying to be a tourist town I figured maybe there was a place for me here locally.  We have a Dutch Village Mall downtown that is undergoing renovations trying to put life back into our downtown core.  (Mind you, our downtown is one street, three blocks long...)  The Dutch Village Mall houses a local theater, a Thai restaurant, a hotel (in the windmill portion) and a canal that runs the length of it, filled with large koi.

A cute little chotskies shop called "The Hen House" has recently opened it's doors in our newly renovated mall.  

Today I bundled up most of the bags that I have made in the last few years and carted them down to the shop.  Paige (the lovely shopkeeper) seemed quite pleased by them and gladly put them in her shop.  I'm sure her pleasure had little to do with the nice commission she will make and more to do with the fine work I was stocking her shop with.  Despite her commission, if the bags sell for what we priced them at I will still make a fine profit. 

I'm excited and eager to see how they sell - or even IF they sell.  I'm ready to start knitting and making more items.  I'm ready to quit the post office and make this my career.  Hahaha.  Kidding.  I am sure I will never get rich, but it WOULD be great if I could at least get this hobby to pay for itself.

Our flock became 16

More about chickens..

Just a little more.
and then I'm done.
Probably.

The "egg guy" gave us a beautiful silver laced cochin pre-named Helen.  Naturally I had to name my other silver laced cochin Helen.  Now I have the two Helens.

I used to have an Aunt Helen.  She was my mother's older sister.  This got me to thinking and I was compelled by some unknown power to name my cuckoo marans Ruby, after my father's sister.  I've had them a year.  It's about time I named them.  Now I have the two Ruby's.

The cochin breed of chicken has quickly become my favorite.  They are very sociable and they have cute little feathers on their legs and feet.

Peter had tempted me last week with a couple of buff cochin and I resisted as best I could but finally caved in.  Unfortunately there was only one buff one left by the time I got there. I compromised by getting a white one to go with the buff one.  I have named them Leila because I have an Aunt Leila.

While I was busy picking out the Leila's, The Carmela's caught my attention.  (Yes, I have an Aunt Carmela..) They are partridge cochin.

Aren't they cute?

From Left to Right:  Carmela, Carmela, Leila, Leila

I also have or had an Aunt Bette, Aunt Louise, Aunt LuraMae.  It seems I will need to get a lot more chickens...

Chicken Swappin'

Once upon a time there was a woman named Sharon who just loved chickens.  After struggling with disease and predators, she managed to get a happy little flock of 6 established.  5 hens and 1 rooster.  A flock who merrily scratched at the ground, laid delicious eggs and generally entertained the woman and made her happy.  The rooster pleased her greatly with incessant crowing and strutting about.

Then along came Sam, a neighborhood dog.  One fateful day, Sam jumped the ditch, grabbed one of the beloved silver-laced Cochin hens, carried her back across the ditch and down the road.  Finally releasing her at the south end of the property, where the bird promptly landed in the ditch.  Having witnessed the assault, Sam's owner came to report the incident.  A shoe-less Sharon ran down the road and jumped into the ditch, not thinking for a second about the leaches and crawdads and other creepy crawlies that live in the water.  The beloved hen was not well.  Innards had become outtards.  She was alive and in shock.  Despite our efforts she died during the night.  (The hen, not Sharon).

Our chicken flock had become 5.

Sharon's loving husband brought home 10 bantam chicks. 5 frizzled cochin and 5 blue silkies.

Our chicken flock had become 15.

Unfortunately, the first night we had them one of the blue's perished - apparently crushed by the weight of it's siblings all huddling for warmth.

Our flock had become 14.

The second night we lost one of the frizzles.

Our flock had become 13.

No more chicks have been lost and they are growing fast and become stronger every day.

Shortly after, Sharon received a phone call from the local egg guy.  "I'm bringing you a chicken," he said.  "Why?" She asked.  "Because I hear you lost a silver-laced cochin." Was his reply.  Can't argue with that!

Our chicken flock had become 14.

Unfortunately Helen (that's what the egg guy called her) was struggling to fit in.  She would go off by herself and we would have to find her and bring her in at night against her will.  In an attempt to help her adjust we fenced in the chickens and did not let them free-range for a few days.  The Australorp rooster and his australorp hen were bullies when faced with confinement.  They picked on the other four and had them cowering in the corner.  Rooster seemed insatiable with his "requirements" of the girls - and he was none to gentle.  Sad as it made me, it was time for Rooster and his mate to go.  A good home was easily and quickly found with the people who 'gave' us Chupa, Cadbury, Een & Twee.

Our flock had become 12.

We swapped the two austrolorps for a turkey.  We were actually offered two turkey chicks.  But Peter's mother would come unhinged at the thought of turkeys free-ranging around here.  So instead of live turkey chicks, we swapped for an organic turkey to be cleaned and dressed for us to pick up just before Thanksgiving.  Her name is Rosie (short for roasted) and she should have live a good, happy, healthy, free-range life until Mid November.

This morning Peter asked me if we needed some buff cochins to add to our flock.  I'm thinking about it.  I do love chickens.