Apr 11, 2013 |
If you’ve been on my Facebook page or follow me on Instagram (TheRealMojo68) in the past few days, you may have seen this adorable photo.
Dot’s grandparents received a shipment of mail-order chicks last week. I know. Mail order?! But apparently it’s quite humane. They ship overnight with air filter and cooling packs to keep the chicks comfortable. Good to know.
They ordered them quite a few weeks ago, which allowed time for Grandpa to build this amazing chicken coop.
Grandpa has a workshop out of his garage. I don’t mean a little table with a tiny saw for cute fun projects. I mean, this man works for a living and his garage is his workshop. There are planks and bins of nails and power cords and tools and tables and saws and rulers and instruments… any- and every-thing a woodworker needs. As you can guess, he’s very good at what he does.
So when Dot went over for the afternoon a few days ago, I followed. I wanted to see the chicks. I didn’t expect to fall in love with them. Or even better, have one in particular fall in love with me.
I named this one Ethel. While Dot held and played with several chicks, one and two at a time, Ethel was content to immediately fall asleep in my hand. Can you believe I spent half an hour holding a chick and looking at the others? That’s it. That was the entertainment of the evening. Watching chicks. And you know what? It was fun and I’d do it again!
Grandma Sue and I talked about the care and raising of the chicks. These are Rhode Island Reds and they’ll lay brown eggs. They’re supposed to all be female, but at this very young age it’s sometimes hard to tell. So they may end up with a Rooster or two. If that happens, he’ll go elsewhere. They want eggs, not more chicks.
Then Grandpa Harry took me out to the chicken coop he built. I tried to take a photo of Ethel in a bin, but she refused to leave my hand. Meanwhile, Dot’s chick pooped on her. I didn’t take a photo of that. You’re welcome.
For now, the chicks live in a large box in the family room. There’s a heat lamp that is constantly on, a feed tray and watering trough. The chicks eat, drink and sleep in this box. In about a week, they’ll be moved outside to the fenced-in garden area.
Grandma and Grandpa have fenced in six small fruit trees and the chicks will adjust to outdoor life under the mesh security. When they’re older [read: bigger] and more able to avoid birds of prey, they’ll be moved to the chicken coop. They’ll have full reign over that area until being locked up at night for their own protection.
Chickens are great for pest control. They’re also a great natural garbage disposal and will eat all your table scraps. Their droppings are natural fertilizer. And there’s nothing like farm-fresh eggs cooked to perfection on a lazy Saturday morning. Am I right?
Yeah. I’m really looking forward to living vicariously through Harry’s House of Hens.
Happy Eating, y’all!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Apr 7, 2013 |
Today’s post is from reporter Amy Zillner. She’s the reporter who reached out to me in November to help me get the word out about The Unemployment Cookbook.
As a creative writer, I’m intrigued with how reporters grapple with “just the facts”. I opened up a Guest Blog post to Amy with one caviat: Write what you want. I gave her no leading, no subject, and when she asked, I refused to give her direction. I wanted this post to be strictly herself, in her own words.
This is Amy’s post.
Reporting isn’t about facts, it’s about people
Hi all!
It’s such an honor to be a guest on Molly’s blog. I’m so grateful to be here.
Molly’s such an inspiration to me. I bet she inspires you too. I feel truly blessed to have met her.
She’s amazing! She took her dream of publishing The Unemployment Cookbook took action and made it a reality.
My dream. I wanted to be a freelance writer. Of what, I didn’t know. My B.A. in English hung on my wall, a gleaming example of my education —a dusty reflection of disappointment.
Can I tell you something? I never wanted to be a reporter. I had one class in college and said Nah! Too factual! Too boring!
As a creative writer and avid reader, facts were considered a part of daily living that I strove to escape from. Whereas fiction weaved a beautiful world I could get lost in.
It wasn’t until I actually had my first assignment that I experienced what a blessing and a challenge being a reporter really is.
The Blessings:
· If you’re passionate about something it can become your whole life if you let it.
· Forgiveness can bring peace and healing to many if a victim of tragedy can share their story to educate others.
· Listening to someone’s life story is something everyone should do.
· Reaching 100 years carries a lot of living with it; one person can influence the lives of many.
· Dreams can’t become a reality if you don’t take the steps to make it happen.
· People out there are rooting for our youth to have the opportunity to go to college, and they’re actually raising money to help them get there.
My Biggest Challenge:
· Fear
I’m not going to get the interview. I’m going to sound like a fool. I’m going to disappoint a lot of people. I’ll never be a good enough writer to make it through.
My constant companion.
If you’re looking to take a step toward your dream, fear is going to be your companion too. Sometimes you’re going to think you can’t do it.
Let me tell you something I know about fear. It’s a small creature casting a huge shadow puppet on the wall of your imagination.
And it isn’t until you face that shadow that you’ll see how small fear truly is.
So take that step toward your dream.
YOU CAN DO IT!
Let go of all the excuses of WHY you can’t and take a step towards HOW you can.
If you want to be a reporter start talking to people, immerse yourself in your community and the world around you.
Everybody has a story and everybody has a voice, we need only listen.
I’m listening.
Will you share your dream with me?
Genuinely Curious,
Amy Z.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Apr 7, 2013 |
For reasons I’ve yet to disclose, I’ve been quite unable to Blog lately. Time, resources, and a changing of the guard have kept me from my keyboard recently.
Happily, I logged online tonight to find this delightful surprise in my Inbox. While she’s not a resident of Catford Manor, she is a cousin. And she warms my heart. Not a bad way to get back into Blogging, yah?
Meet Zoey.
Isn’t she just purrfect? I can’t wait to Cat-sit for her someday.
What are your favorite pets?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
