By name: Bea, Blanche, Sophia, Rose and DorothyThese ladies are fantastic: they keep down the weeds, rototill the soil, eat our kitchen scraps, provide the girls with hours of entertainment and pop out farm fresh eggs like nobody's business. These are happy hens, folks. I love them. And some day I will most likely kill and eat them and/or their offspring. I have no problem with that--they're the world's best pets.
And speaking of pets, (whom we do not plan to eat) we've added another, more domestic, beast to our family: A furball named Luther! Luther was formerly the Moore family's cockapoo puppy; he and Granny formed an attachment while she was in Vancouver staying with the kids and after a trial period to see if Caba would eat him or not, we've decided that he would make a wonderful addition to the family. And most importantly, the girls loooooove him. Audrey is infatuated with him in a mother-hen sort of way, but I think Bailey has some serious designs on him as best friend material. I'll make sure to post a picture of him soon.
Sadly, I think the lack of baby-fever and the installation of these new critters in our home has brought about a rather alarming (for John) state of being in me: I have Mad Cow Disease. Er...Cow Fever?? This is not coming out right: I want a dairy cow...so badly that I mention it to everyone I speak to and probably bring it up to John about 836 times a day. I get ridiculously crabby any time I have to go to the store to buy milk and am constantly planning how I can eek out enough pasture land from the yard to merit a very small and totally manageable Jersey cow. I keep telling myself that by pure force of will I can make this come about. I want a cow like I wanted a baby. It's that bad. Maybe you could say a prayer or two for me. I'm off to go commune with the chickens and drown my sorrows in some grass-fed happy cow milk.
And speaking of pets, (whom we do not plan to eat) we've added another, more domestic, beast to our family: A furball named Luther! Luther was formerly the Moore family's cockapoo puppy; he and Granny formed an attachment while she was in Vancouver staying with the kids and after a trial period to see if Caba would eat him or not, we've decided that he would make a wonderful addition to the family. And most importantly, the girls loooooove him. Audrey is infatuated with him in a mother-hen sort of way, but I think Bailey has some serious designs on him as best friend material. I'll make sure to post a picture of him soon.
Sadly, I think the lack of baby-fever and the installation of these new critters in our home has brought about a rather alarming (for John) state of being in me: I have Mad Cow Disease. Er...Cow Fever?? This is not coming out right: I want a dairy cow...so badly that I mention it to everyone I speak to and probably bring it up to John about 836 times a day. I get ridiculously crabby any time I have to go to the store to buy milk and am constantly planning how I can eek out enough pasture land from the yard to merit a very small and totally manageable Jersey cow. I keep telling myself that by pure force of will I can make this come about. I want a cow like I wanted a baby. It's that bad. Maybe you could say a prayer or two for me. I'm off to go commune with the chickens and drown my sorrows in some grass-fed happy cow milk.
1 comment:
So I guess John lost the naming game? or do you both call them something different?
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