We made the leap into the poultry world in November.  I have become...a chicken farmer.  The idea was to get 4-5 hens and maybe one rooster to learn about life, responsibility and for a little fun. It is not surprising that Sadie was the initiator of this adventure. As I type this we have about 40 chickens in our backyard.  Yes, 40!  I came home one Saturday afternoon in early January to the announcement by Jay and Sadie that we should expect 35 day-old chicks at the end of the month.  I was not a part of this decision, though I am certainly responsible for making sure they receive proper care.  I have learned not to be bitter about that fact. 

Honestly, it has been a great "hobby."  We have learned a tremendous amount about life - how it comes to be and how it can quickly and unexpectedly end, particularly with the loss of our sweet Iris.  We have learned a lot about how hard and time consuming farm life must be as we have only experienced it on a tiny level.  It takes about 2 hours to clean out and replenish the coops which we do weekly.  We also feed and water daily along with throwing out scraps, chicken grit, and occasional corn.  We have also learned about the intricacies of God's design in His creation. The process by which chicks are brought into this world is fascinating and it is amazing to me all of the pieces that come together to make it happen - daylight, temperature, timing.  Although this might sound a bit hokey, it is actually entertaining to watch the chickens when we have them free-ranging in the yard.  Some of them have distinct personalities like our group of Polish ladies who are always curious. Others, like our Silkies, who are sweet and docile, are not the smartest chickens on the block. It is pretty hilarious when one chicken finds a worm and all the rest go crazy trying to get it out of the mouth of the finder. 

Our current breed selection include:  Silkies (a chicken with black skin - google an image for a picture of the black skin.  It looks a little creepy), White and Silver-crested Polish chickens, Wyandottes, and Crevecoeurs.  We also have 4 Giants and 4 Red-Star Roosters.  We also have a "mystery" chicken that was sent to us as a bonus.  We think he is either a Americuana or a Buff-Laced Wyandotte.

We have names only for the Crevecoeurs (Bob and Brenda) because they were our first chickens and are endangered.  We also have a name for our Polish Rooster, Fred.  Fred has gone a little kooky since his original mate died and he had to be separated from Bob due to fighting.  His group of ladies are not quite old enough to be in his same coop, but I hope once they are, he will calm down.  Currently, he does a lot of prancing around and crowing and displays signs of haughtiness.  He still allows Sadie to pick him up and carry him around like a baby on his back, so at least no pecking has begun.
Lily likes to create these funny names for the chickens.  She has named one Mrs. High Places because she perched up on the highest corner of the coop.  Other chicken names include Florida and Dudlette Do-Wrong, Cooper (short for Coppernicus), and Bob Junior.

Only Brenda, our lone Crevecoeur, is laying.  The others should be ready in another month or so.  She lays about 1 a day.  We are letting her keep her eggs in hopes she will become broody and want to sit on them.  Time will tell.  Eventually, we should get about 20 or 30 eggs a day.  Our plan is to sell what we can and donate the rest to the Open Door Shelter.

On these warm spring evenings after Jay has returned home, we will get a drink and sit in some lawn chairs down by the coop watching our flock free-range around the yard.  There is a bizarre sense of peace down there amidst the clucking and cooing.  I never thought I would find contentment in that.

Images (top to bottom): Silver-crested Polish hen, White-crested Polish hen, Crevecoeur rooster, Silkies, Silver-laced Wyandotte

ALL things work together for good...

In mothering, there is little more difficult than dealing with children who are emotionally hurt and deeply disappointed. I have found that I go to great lengths to avoid such times, as I imagine we all do.

Yesterday, I picked Ethan up from guitar and transported him to the pool for swimming practice. We had a sweet conversation about the plans of God. I can't recall what was the catalyst for this talk, but in the end, Ethan said, "But all things work for good, right Mommy?" Little did he know how much he would need to recall this statement about an hour later. For a nine-year old's world is vastly different than ours in terms of perspective and experiences. What we might be able to work through and then quickly move forward through, they cannot. The important, life-altering relationships are few, their security strongly rooted in them. For the sensitive child, change in general is challenging and the loss of an important person in their life is exponentially harrowing.

We arrived at the pool and gathered with the other families. A team meeting had been called for that afternoon to discuss the summer schedule and "plans for next year." The email that informed me of this meeting was vague and I knew that there was a high probability that the news would not be good. The news was brief and swift, much like the ripping off of a band aid. Unfortunately, it left a gaping wound that continued to bleed as more information was given and the reality of what the meant for my children set in. The site location for our team was going to close and our coach was moving to a location geographically and financially unfeasible for us.

Over the past year, I have recounted several tales from our experiences with the pool - from our first jaunt with the Elk's this past summer, to a smattering of swim mentions in other posts. I can't verbalize all the ways in which swimming has benefited my children. Physically, mentally, emotionally - they have learned valuable lessons on working hard, team-work, and sportsmanship. They have developed a new fondness for healthy eating and being "tough." This has spilled over in their spiritual life as well, understanding that they should always give their best for God, relying on Him to give strength to their bodies, rising above the fray of competition and spending time in prayer over it. Nothing has pleased me more than watching my son thank his timers, cheer on his fellow teammates, shake hands with his competitors, and encourage his sister (which is extremely difficult to do at times, I assure you).

There was comfort for Ethan in our current swim location. He is not Olympic material. However, he works hard, always does his best, listens to his coach and is content with improving his times. There is security in knowing that he is not compared to the other swimmers, that he is not intimidated by more advanced swimmers and he had developed quite a nice, tightly knit commraderie, with the other swimmers. I saw every ounce of that security and confidence drain from his face yesterday.

But possibly the most detrimental result of this news falls with Ethan's coach. Ethan's relationship with him is similar to that of an older brother. I am sure Ethan has been aggravating at times, just like a younger brother, but Ethan also opened himself up to this coach in a way that he has only done with me. It was a relationship that quickly evolved beyond what he had experienced with other adults of authority. This adult was always interested in him. Ethan trusted him, relied on him, gave him insight into his emotions and what he was dealing with outside of the pool. And, so, my son grieves this loss as if it were a death.

I have been faced with multiple situations over the last month that fall under this same set of circumstances - issues out of my control that greatly impact my children in a negative way and I have to deal with the fallout. It is not fun. Frankly, it stinks. At least at this moment, I am only dealing with Ethan on this as Sadie does not appear to have fully allowed the reality of losing her coach into her heart.

It is a great and valuable teaching lesson for Ethan and me. He was blessed to have this year and this relationship. There should only be joy in that, not grief. It is but a bump in this life, this very temporary life. In the perspective of disappointments in life, this will be minor - let's learn how to deal with them now. Finally, we must plow forward remembering that something phenomenal is still before us, waiting, because, "we know that to them that love God all things work together for good, even to them that are called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28