A Whole New World

27 august 2012 . monday . (day nine hundred sixty-six)

The kitchen wallpaper is gone for good.  Aah... what a difference it makes. 

26 august 2012 . sunday . (day nine hundred sixty-five)

All along, I thought that the kitchen and eating area seemed a little dark.  As it turns out, the wallpaper and ceiling used to be creamy white rather than tobacco tan.  Gross.

25 august 2012 . saturday . (day nine hundred sixty-four)

So Dang Cute, or, Very Own Chickens

For just over four months, I've been tending chickens.  Because the coop I planned to build would house three medium-sized layers, I started with five chicks in case any turned out to be boys.  The three ladies that stayed were going to have names like Elvira, Dottie, and something else old-timey, but they ended up being collectively called Larry, Moe, and Curly.*  The other two chickies, Mutt and Jeff, found a home at the in-laws. 

*If I do eat them after they stop being productive layers (like I keep saying that I will because "In a way, it's this beautiful cycle to nourish something and then be nourished by it, yadda, yadda."), I'm thinking that it will not be quite so difficult if the chickens don't have cute little names.

Other Observances

19 august 2012 . sunday . (day nine hundred fifty-eight)

J. and I skipped the local Blackberry Festival in order to avoid hoards of people and stick to ourselves over the weekend.  We did spend a morning harvesting wild blackberries though.  We came home with a few thorn scratches and nearly nine pounds of berries to show for our efforts.

I then spent the afternoon canning several half pints of Blackberry-Bay Leaf Jam.  I made this same recipe last year and love it.  It's great on toast, yogurt, and ice cream.

I also canned a few half pints of just blackberries.  Note to self: Even though blackberries are said to hold their shape during hot pack preparation they don't.  Follow raw pack instructions in the future.

Inaugural Year

Believe it or not, it has been one full year since we got the key (one key that worked properly in one of four doors) to our very own house.  Just before our occupancy, it was a bed & breakfast and once upon a time, it belonged to a Mr. Charles Beckley.