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!
Mar 27, 2013
While I still have over two weeks to raise enough funds to publish A Study on the Ten Commandments, I’ve taken a second route to the same ultimate destination: the Study is now available for purchase for Amazon’s Kindle. [You can check it out here.]
I’m still working on a Barnes & Noble Nook version.
This path is more unique than anything I envisioned when I long ago knew I would be a Writer. In my childhood days, I drew stick figures named “Fred” on napkins, or scribbled notes on the margins of anything I could find.
I dreamed of one day submitting my work to a publishing house and after much trial and tribulation, finding that working formula that allowed them to say, “Yes. We like you.”
But that day hasn’t come. Because it doesn’t have to. I’ve dealt with the editor who wants to change my character’s speech pattern. I’ve received the necessary rejection letters.
And I opened my horizons to other avenues. The ultimate goal as a writer is to write. It’s necessary. It’s a daily activity that can’t be ignored or set aside. Writing calls to me as strongly as a spring flower reaches for the sun. It can’t be helped.
Being published, then, is a fine byproduct of those efforts. Self-publishing allows me to side-step the many sections of red tape and other interferences. I simply want to write, and write well.
I hope this doesn’t disappoint you.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
If you’d like to pre-order a printed copy of A Study on the Ten Commandments, click here.
Mar 24, 2013
I said this to a friend yesterday. I was completely sincere.
He’d had a heart attack nine months ago. Without warning. I woke up one Sunday to read on Facebook, “Had a heart attack last night.” I tried to figure out what he meant. Was he referring to a fright? Did his sports team lose? It wasn’t until he posted a photo of him in the hospital bed that I realized he was serious: he’d had an actual heart attack. As we were chatting this weekend about so many things in life, I thanked him for not dying.
Another friend of mine went through a bad health scare a few years ago, yet focuses his attentions on helping others before himself. Still someone else is suffering depression and it saddens me that I can’t be a stronger help for her.
So many people don’t realize their importance to others. We take our friends and even our families for granted. While we share ourselves to an extent, we may never really know what’s going on inside someone else’s mind, body or soul. Anything can happen at any given moment.
Everyone has something to offer; a reason for being in our lives. I’m a strong believer in letting people know how you feel.
This is for each and every one of you still in my life.
My Dearest Person,
Thank you for not dying.
You are valuable to me in ways I can’t fully express. You have honored me with your trust, your respect, your company. You are an example to me of how live through hard times, and celebrate Something Good.
There are times when I have felt useless and burdensome yet you never let me stop being me. You helped build the foundation of my life and while I try often, I don’t think I thank you enough.
Words can’t express what I really want to say to you. I’m so grateful to have you to laugh with, to cry with, to ask help from and be a help to. I want you to know that being a part of your life is so rewarding to me. You’re not perfect; I’m not perfect. But together, we’re a perfect blend of give and take.
My memories of us will never be forgotten. I love that we’re adding to them constantly. I can’t possibly imagine my life without you. And I’m so glad at this point in time, I don’t have to.
Whatever you went through, are going through, will go through… Thank you for not dying.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
With much love,
Molly Jo
Expand Your Horizons
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Not Such a Bad Day
Using The “F” Word
Afterthoughts
Friends v. Friends
To the Young Adult Females in My Life
To The One Who Lost Someone This Week and Others Who Are Hurting
Dear Amy, I’m Just So Sorry For Your Loss.
Do You Mean It?
Promise Me We’ll Be Like Them
