Do you see that farm in the background?

Well there is a story behind the guy who lives there.

That guy lives on the same road as Jesse, Haylee, and Levi.  You see, today we went to Haylee’s Graduation Party.   Yep.   I can’t believe it actually.  It seems like just yesterday she was running around here in diapers, eating Gerber’s Blueberry Buckle, and being uncommonly brilliant for her very young age.

Where does the time go?  She is all grown up now.  Heading off to college in the fall.  And she is STILL uncommonly brilliant.   Among other things.  I think she may even still eat Blueberry Buckle.  But nonetheless.  It was a great party in honor of her graduation from high school.  Very fine indeed.

But I’m off topic.  The farm in the photo.  The guy down the road.

He used to have a big boat that he would park there…  out behind the back barn.  We are talking about a pretty darn big boat.  Then he would disappear with it, for months on end.

As we came to find out… he was bit of a robber on the high seas.  South of Greece… in the Mediterranean Sea.  Yep.  A pirate.

Can you believe a pirate lives next door to them?  Well.  Not any more, really.  These days, he grows corn.  And…. he sells it for a buck an ear.

It was a sticky-hot day in July.   The kind of day that hangs on you heavy wet robe.   Mary called and told me there was an injured dog on State Route 122.  Someone had found it in their yard.  They were giving it water and keeping it in the shade…. but they did not want to keep this “hair ball.”  Not one bit.  They said it was the ugliest dog they had ever seen in their entire life.

I went.

When I got there, in fact, I saw a small black motionless furry thing, laying in the grass.  I approached cautiously, picked it up, and took it to the vet.  As I walked through the lobby, cradling this dog in my arms… I announced to anyone who would listen… “This is not my dog.  This is not my dog.”  You see, I was a Golden Retriever Snob.  Yes.  I was a GRS at that time in my life.  I did not want any other canines but those Beautiful, Majestic, Smart, Strong, Golden-Children-Retrievers.

So. Back to matted black furry thing in my arms.  Diagnosis from the vet… a broken pelvis in four places, broken tail, broken teeth, tongue bitten clear through… and on.  Would it make it?  Maybe, but chances of that dog walking normally were slim to none.  It was pretty young though… about 2 years old or so.  So who could tell.

As it turned out… on that day…. Mary and I took that little dog in… to see if we could get it to mend.

About a half of a day later… the “it” turned into a “she.”  Then a couple hours later… “she” got a name.  Maxine Virginia Swift.  By this point in time, she had won our hearts over… fast and furious.

She began to transform.  Over the next few weeks, she limped less and less.  It wasn’t long before she learned to run.  She found her spunk.

And now… NOW…. 13 years later… she believes in her little Terrier Head.. that she is the mightiest creature on earth.   And she lets everyone else relish in this well-known fact.

Why do I tell this story again?

Her spirit is mighty.  She rose from a very desperate, and dark place.  She transformed.  She found love in her heart, and she felt that she was loved by others.  I believe this was the key factor.  Love.  Knowing love….  in one’s heart and soul.

Love for others… and for ourselves… love is what matters most of all.  That, and Milk Bone treats.

“Let us always meet each other with smile, for the smile is the beginning of love.”  —  Mother Teresa

“The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.”  —
Ferdinand Foch

“…then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.  And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”  —  1 Corinthians 13

The phone rang bright and early this morning.  Not my phone, but Mary’s phone.  I get up every morning at 5:30, so it wasn’t too early to call me.  But it might have been a bit crack-of-dawn-ish for anyone else.  It was just a bit after 6 a.m.

The United States Post Office on the line.  My chickens had flown in.

“What?  My chickens are here?  MY CHICKENS are HERE!”  By 6:30 a.m. I was at the Eaton Post Office banging on the door.  “Open up in there!  Ye has me chickens!”

Actually, the drive to the post office was quite nice.  There was a beautiful sun rising… and a mist swallowed up all the fields.  It sort of took my breathe away.   OR it could have been that I just slugged down a big gulp of hot coffee.  WAY TOO HOT coffee.

Anyway, back to the chicks. I picked them up, introduced myself, and we got in my car.  They are probably only a couple of days old.

You see… I wanted NOTHING to do with this farm animal adventure.  I would not have anything to do with the care of the chickens which we were getting a few weeks ago.  No way, no how.  But then I started getting the bug.  Mary took me to a chicken show… I got my American Poultry Association Membership… and it has been a slippery slope ever since.

From then on, I decided the breed for me was going to be New Hampshire Reds.  (Mary had Orpingtons on the way.)  So… as a late birthday present, she ordered me 4 New Hampshires… and today they came.

As we drove in front of the house,  with that beautiful sun making its way a little higher from the horizon….  a gentle young deer stood in a bed of purple wildflowers.  It was so incredibly picturesque.  AND then…. As if it couldn’t get any better, a little brown fuzzy bunny hopped along the road, near the deer.   (Oh my gosh!)  As I pulled into the driveway and started up the lane…. a Flicker flew past my car and into the field….  and yet another stunning chestnut-colored deer stood in the tall grass.

I slammed on my breaks.  “What is this…. Freakin’ Disney???  Is there a camera on me???  Is somebody filming this?  Besides our security cameras?  I mean.. I feel like I am on The Truman Show or something…”

And then I laughed out loud.  Some days feel like a bit like Disney.

You see… the truth of it is…… I love these little chickens.  They have changed me for the good, I think.  Their little fuzzy feathers… and tiny peeping peeps.

I will especially love them…. when they start laying eggs for me.  Then we really WILL be pals.

Yes…. on that day… they baked lots and lots of bread.  They wanted to make loafers.

AND…. they did it on the fly.

Yet… there are times when they will put on their fake Grizzly Paws… and do wood working projects.  That way… they can say they made it with their bear hands.

Tuesday of last… they decided to go to the ocean….. because a friend said the ocean “speaks to her.”  They waited on the beach for the ocean to say something … but it only waved.

In need of money… they decided to get a job at the Recycling Factory.  They had to use the Can-Crusher.  Not much fun… because…. it was SODA pressing.

On their way home.  They stopped at the grocery.  A girl in the store said she knew them from the Vegetarian Club.  But they had never met Herbivore.

They got home and walked through the garage.  They heard the the little ladder… say to the big ladder… “You are NOT my father.”  It must have been a step-ladder.

I feel like a dolphin and a fish.  I did all of this on porpoise.   So let minnow if you think it is funny.

A sense of humor… is needed armor. Joy in one’s heart and some laughter on one’s lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.  —  Hugh Sidey

Humor is mankind’s greatest blessing.  —  Mark Twain

Isn’t if funny how somethings come in waves.   I have met at least four very nice turtles so far this week, and it is only Tuesday.  The one I encountered today was a beautiful little dude.  He was hanging out in our yard by the willow tree.

Here is the thing about turtles.  It doesn’t seem like they are likely to have bad thoughts.   At least, not by the look on their faces.   I mean, I probably scared the turtle-turds out of this little fella…. with me getting all up in his face with my camera.  But he just looked at me peacefully.. most likely afraid… more than angry.

People can be different.  Some people seem to be naturally inclined to bad thoughts.   Like this morning.  I was standing in line at a store which I will not name to protect the innocent.  Clearly… CLEARLY… the clerk was not happy about being there.    And when it came my turn… I KNOW she was shooting mind-bullets at me.  Lots of mind-bullets.

I ducked and I dodged.  I would not give in. I just smiled in her direction, was polite, and thanked her.

Now there is an old saying about “Killing them with Kindness.”  But I didn’t want to kill her… or make her worse off than she already was.  I simply wanted her to be…   …. to be… ….  less angry, I guess.

Just thinking nice thoughts sounds pretty simplistic.  Surely there is more in life to contemplate than that. But the thing of it is… nice thoughts can be pretty powerful.   Just making the decision to be kind can impact our own lives and the lives of everyone around us.

Recently … more and more…. I have been recognizing  the power of thought.  Unfortunately, thoughts are not something we always have full control of.  Sometimes… a despicable thought enters my tiny head.  Especially when someone is giving me their evil-x-ray eyes.   But thoughts are something we can definitely shape, guide and point in the right direction.   In theory… that is.

I think that when we are in a good state of mind the world becomes a lighter place – for all involved.  When we act kindly, and have good thoughts… we create a little positive energy dome all around us… and it is beautiful.. …

So I met that little turtle this morning.   Maybe that little guy’s gentle spirit had a big effect on ME… and sent me on the way for the day.

Tomorrow… I say…. Let’s put our turtle on.  Yeah baby.

“We rise by lifting others.”  —Robert Ingersoll

“When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace.”  —The 14th Dalai Lama (1935)

“If you have not often felt the joy of doing a kind act, you have neglected much, and most of all yourself.”  —A. Neilen

Memorial Day is officially over for 2015.  That means, that summer is officially here… unofficially.

By our societal standards… this is the day that marks when you can start wearing white pants and white shoes again.  Yeah.  Right.

And when older men… can start wearing their black socks pulled up to their knees, with their tennis shoes… and shorts.  Faux Pas, if there ever was one.

At any rate.  Summertime, summertime.  Now, truly and officially, it does not begin until the Summer Solstice.  Which happens to occur on Sunday, June 21, 2015 at 16:39 UCT (Universal Coordinated Time).  That, for me… is 12:39 p.m.  For someone in Seattle, WA, it is 9:39 a.m.

But I am jumping head.  Here we are just after Memorial Day.  Here is what I am thinking.  Where did the month of May go?  I mean… it seems like just yesterday we were freezing our booties off… in the January deep freeze.

I feel like one of those cartoon characters… where the pages of the daily calendar… start flying off the wall… in high-speed motion.  Flip, flip, flip, flip… the pages swirling through the air around me.

As the old saying goes….  Time Flies.  Personally, I think it flies…whether we are having fun of not.  And it seems like the older we are, the faster it goes.

I have a theory about that.  And wouldn’t you know it?  I am going to share it with you.  As we get older… our bodies begin to slow down.  This is a scientific fact.  You see…. our brain cells fire off commands to muscles. Fast firing depends on good insulation in our brain’s wiring.

Now new research suggests that in middle age….. even healthy people begin to lose some of that insulation in the motor-control part of the brain.  And as a result… the whole speed-reaction of the body slows.

AND….. if THAT weren’t enough…. we lose our muscles too.  Yep. Muscle is constantly being built up and broken down in humans.  By the time we’re 30, this process starts to go south.  The breakdown of muscle becomes greater than buildup.  Once we reach 40…  we start to lose between 0.5 and 2 per cent of our Popeye-Rippling muscles each year.  Hand me the Spinach Can…. I’ll tell you.

But back to my theory.  We are slowing down.  Time is still moving at the same rate as always.  Hence… the illusion that it is moving more quickly than ever before…. since we are now slower than a snail in Elmer’s glue.

When we were five years old… it took EONS… for Santa Clause to get here next week.  Now… at age 65…. one week goes by with the twitch of a nose and a wink of the eye.  Right up the chimney.

And there it is.  Memorial Day has come and gone.  And we turning in to mush.  What the heck.  Wear the black knee-highs with your tennis shoes.  It seems of little concern in the face of everything else.

It is often good if we can consider the bigger scheme of things.  Sometimes the little things shouldn’t matter so much… when the really big things should.  A tick.  And a tock.

“The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.”
― Douglas Adams

“If it’s true that our species is alone in the universe, then I’d have to say the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little.”
― George Carlin

“Every day one should at least hear one little song, read one good poem, see one fine painting and — if at all possible — speak a few sensible words.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”
― Abraham Lincoln

Well.  This is a big day for farmers everywhere.  You see… it was on this day… May 24th… in the year 1830…. that the song Mary Had A Little Lamb was published.

It started out… really… as a nursery rhyme.   And, little did we know… this fleece who’s white as snow…. was inspired by an actual incident.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this poem was based on a true story.

Here’s the deal.   Apparently, there was a young girl, Mary Sawyer kept a pet lamb.  No spoiler alert here.

Her big brother suggested she take it to school with her.  You KNOW how big brothers can be.  Always tell you to do things…. which later you will completely regret.  Like spreading motor oil all over the basement floor… for slicker roller skating.  But I digress.

So… this “thick as a brick” kid named Mary… pulls her lamb to school… kicking and dragging.  I mean… humans don’t want to go to school at that age… let alone… little lambs… who’s fleece is white as snow.

And wouldn’t you know it… a  commotion naturally ensued.   Yep.  Like the kids all freaked out up and down…  and the teacher threw apples and such….   ANYWAY….

But also on that day… the school had another visitor.  This young man’s name was  John Roulstone.   He was a nephew of the Reverend Lemuel Capen… and to prepare for college… young people often studied with ministers.  Lucky for John… his uncle Lemuel WAS a minister.

Oh this goes on.  So John thought the whole Little Lamb thing was pretty funny.  As a result… the dude rode across the fields on horseback to the little old schoolhouse the next day.  And he gave Little Mary Sawyer a slip of paper which had written upon it the three original stanzas of the poem.  Several years later, American author Sarah Hale was given credit for finishing the poem.

Two more tidbits about this story.   The first. Mary Sawyer’s house, located in Sterling, Massachusetts, was destroyed by arson on August 12, 2007.  Now… this indicates to me that perhaps the arsonist has a strong dislike for the nursery rhyme.  Probably due to some childhood traumatic experience, with fleece, or snow, or lambs in general.

And the second.  The rhyme is also famous for being the very first thing recorded by Thomas Edison on his newly invented phonograph in 1877.  AND….It was the first instance of recorded verse.  This indicates to me that Edison has a strong liking for the poem, probably due to some terrific childhood experience with fleece, or snow… or lambs in general.

And there you have it.  We just never know how are actions might affect others.   It may cause one person to become a serial arsonist… and another to become a gifted inventor.

Which then leads to this.   Bo Peep… who constantly lost her sheep…. inspired no one.  No one at all.

Therefore… always… ALWAYS…. count your chickens.  Even if you do it before they are hatched.

Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around.  —  Henry David Thoreau

We know what we are, but know not what we may be.  —  William Shakespeare

 I dwell in possibility.  —  Emily Dickinson

If you read here very often… you know that we now have chickens.

So today, we visited some friends who own a farm… not only to share the evening and have dinner… but also for Farming 101.

Boy oh boy did I learn a lot.

First of all… they live on Sweet Potato Ridge Road.  Now if you own a farm… it had BETTER be on a road with a good farming name.  Such as this one.  Living on Highway Road, or Busy Street…. would not be as good.

Next.  Some Chickens are religious.  They showed me this particular batch and called them Friars.  Who knew chickens could be members of  this religious order of men…. which includes the four mendicant orders (Augustinians, Carmelites, Dominicans, and Franciscans).  In other words… they are Monk Chickens, I guess.  Like Monk Fish?  I am not sure.  But they definitely called them Friars.

There was a lot more.  Special Gardens. Our friend says they grow pickles.  I am assuming for Vlassic, or Clausen.  Vegetables galore.  Big Dogs.  Funny Cats.  Ducks, Rabbits, Chickens, Cows, and a Miniature Horse.  I sure did meet a whole bunch of animals today.

I have a lot more to see and learn about this farming deal.  I never knew that gathering chicken eggs could be so much fun…. but that you are not really supposed to drop the gathered eggs on the ground after you have all of them …. as they say… in one basket.

One of these days…  I will learn all there is to know about farming.  And I’ll be able to tell you things… like which came first?  The chicken or the egg?     But until then…

…..  this one I don’t know if I get.  A baby cow nursing on a miniature horse.  I was relieved to find out this was NOT a boy horse… because that would have been totally embarrassing.  None the less, it was still pretty embarrassing.

I guess when it came to giving milk…. maybe the Calf’s own mother was….  an Udder Failure.

It is this way for me.  When I am reading a really great book… I mean.. .off the charts good… I don’t want it to end.  It is with a bittersweet sentiment that I turn each page.  I am SO enjoying it, hence the progression and page turning…. but I don’t want to stop reading.

The same goes for an amazing movie.  Or a picnic lunch.  A long swim in the warm ocean waters of the Caribbean.

It is when I find that ultimate joy, and delight in something, that I just want it to keep going and going forever and ever.

For some people it might be the ultimate dessert.  You have in front of you an immaculate Peanut Butter Pie drizzled with Hot Fudge.  That fork sinks into the very tip of the pie…  then your first bite…. and you just don’t want that flavor-fest to end.

Or Corn Dogs at the County Fair… with Mustard AND Ketchup.

There are a boatload of things like this in life… That are the ultimate in goodness, joy, and gladness.  We so enjoy them.  Yet.  When they are done, they aren’t truly over…  at least I don’t think so.  We still remember how they made us feel.  We have had that particular experience that we should never forget… because it was such a grand gift.

You know.   Tonight, I was thinking the same thing goes for people.  When we meet someone who is incredibly golden, whose spirit is true and full and bright…
…. who ….. …. when they smile… fill the room with a genuine warmth.
It is  those people who we want to be around for the all and all.  We want the likes of them to go on forever … because they are one of the souls who are filled with light in the world.

But when they end… we feel like something grand has been lost.

Yet.  Just like an amazing book, or a tremendously good song… we have the ability to recollect and reflect on that very thing.  We keep the message in our hearts.  We can feel that beat in our step.  We remember HOW they made us feel.

We remember.  Not because we are supposed to.  We remember because it was so precious.  And so good.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.  —  Seneca

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.  —  T. S. Eliot

Animals communicate.

With one another for sure.  I think sometimes, some of them make the “cross over” and attempt to talk with other species.

You’ve seen the videos on Facebook and YouTube….  where the Chimpanzee starts taking care of the little puppies… and the dog and the elephant strike up a friendship and hang out together. Those sorts of things.

Yes.  Yessssirrreeee.   They cross those lines with the species who are willing.

Oh it is certain … we love our pets and they love us.  But how many people actually communicate with their little “Fur Children”?

I wonder.

Now… every once in a while… I will catch them red-handed…. talking to one another.

I will walk in the the House where the Little Chickens live.. and see them engaged in a serious conversation about…. say……  pecking orders.  And then they catch me watching, and they go all on the SLY.

Or the other day, I was driving down the road and saw two cows in a very intense girl fight… over some dumb bull in the back field.  As soon as I slowed down.. they both got all “cow-like” and acted like they were grazing.

And last night, when I walked down to the pond… Frances and Ollie were telling dirty dog jokes.  I walked right up on them…  and Ollie acted like she was drinking from a puddle on the ground…

But Frances… FRANCES was BUSTED.  I could tell by the sh!t-eating grin on her face.   She knew I knew.

And that is the way of the Animal Kingdom. I got it alllllllll figured out.
Marlin Perkins don’t have nothing on me….

There are no secrets that time does not reveal.  —  Jean Racine

If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.  —   Khalil Gibran

Moo.  Mooooooooo. Moooooooo.  —  Caroline Bovine Herford

Is it right to probe so deeply into Nature’s secrets? The question must here be raised whether it will benefit mankind, or whether the knowledge will be harmful.  —  Pierre Curie