Our momma hen is back to laying eggs. In the cat's house. On the front porch. But we have eggs again, so that's all that matters.
And here's a duck egg from Pip thrown in for good measure.
It was a bad feeling to be buying eggs from the store for holiday baking.
There's simply no comparison between the bland store bought and the dark colored, flavorful home grown eggs.
God bless you, poultry, every one!
See that big luxurious clothespin in the foreground? I'll be assembling 19 of them tomorrow.
I was so excited when Herrick Kimball released a batch of clothespin kits. They sold out quickly, but I am among the lucky few who got a package.
The pieces are soaking in boiled linseed oil to offer them more protection from the elements.
My laundry is soaking in my homemade laundry soap that smells like Grandma's washing.
I feel frugal.
I had meant to be a consistent blogger but I'll wow you with these photos of famous thespians to take your mind off my long blog absence.
We just performed in a weekend full of "Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus" at the local community theater.
I was Mrs. Madison, a neighbor to the main characters. Laura was convincing as Lige the coal man. Becky and Katie were children in school with Virginia. I know Becky's picture is blurry, but I like it anyway. It summed up the energy of backstage shenanigans before the shows.
This has been a busy season, full of the blessings of a job well done, a close-knit community of fellow actors, and an outreach to people who want access to the arts in rural America.
Clyde is excited about the wildland fire industry's off-season. Most of us won't hold Uncle Clyde because of his unnecessary roughness. He's downright dangerous with his claws and his teeth. He likes to rub his head on us, drooling from happiness, and sucking on fingers.
Now that Big Dan is home, Clyde gets his morning nap on a lap every day.
It takes a man to snuggle with Clyde.