It may be old news, but i had to add this story to my blog as i wanted to remember it for the kids' sake. I had great laying hens. They laid white, brown and green eggs. I never knew what i was going to get and i loved the beauty of the little pile of varying eggs that the kids would bring me each morning or evening. I would wash them, put them in a carton and they would usually be used before the case was filled. This is all in the past tense. There is perhaps a little bit of history that needs to be filled in. The last group of laying hens we got were "rescued" from an industrial egg farm and they looked like they'd lived 100 years in the 1 year they had survived their cramped quarters
at the farm they came from. We let them roam free in the summer and they laid where they wanted. The kids would go out every day to find the favourite spots and bring in the eggs. We had roosters too and the kids always hoped that one of the "rescued" hens would miraculously decide to go against all they had lived up to that point and actually
lay on her prize and become a "cluck" (mother hen). None of them ever did. We hatched out two more batches of laying hens in the living room incubator and bought some fancier varieties to mix up the hen yard, so ended up with more roosters than we wanted. Curt took all the roosters over to his dad's place. (I'm sure he appreciated
that cacophony!) Eventually we took a big bunch of them to the auction and sold them to the thrill of the kids. Well, this spring i was enjoying my little handful of daily eggs. It was perfect. Not the HUGE bucket loads we used to get that i had to clean, but about 5 a day, all different. Suddenly though, the eggs quit coming in. The answer was always, "There aren't any out there." or "No eggs today!" I wondered what was going on and finally was informed that my husband and children had conspired against me, had taken the lot of my hens over to Grandpas place where they had access to roosters and were determined to get one of the laying hens to hatch out her own batch of chicks. Not long after that confession, there was excitement. Something had hatched over at Grandpas. Fresh chicks. No incubators with artificial heat and humidity set to the absolute perfect mix, rocking the eggs day and night in my living room, just mama hen, papa rooster and the perfect design of God. Life contained within that shell, sustained by the life of their mother sitting patiently and waiting. New life is so shockingly complex and yet so simply beautiful.
Tomorrow is the last day of swimming lessons for the kids. The 4 older ones were in formal lessons while Wesley, Sadie and I puddled around in the kiddie pool for the week. We made a HUGE bucket of cookie dough for the fridge so that we could make fresh cookies each night for snacks after lessons. I'm thinking of signing up for another week as it was such a success. Keep your eye on your cookie Robin!!! 
Wes' feet after his morning splash in the baby pool.
Summer seems to have finally arrived just in time for the tail end of July. It is finally *hot* and *dry* and we are landscaping. Not maybe the best time for it but still exciting even as i watch the new gangly perennials wilt and break. I know that next year they'll come back full force and beautiful. Wesley is enjoying the baby pool, spending his mornings and afternoons splashing with Sadie. Robin dotes on the two little ones, painting Sadie's face with my make-up and doing her hair for her and when we go to ball she makes sure to pack a little purse of treats for the little ones too. I'm always surprised by each child's unique personality bends, and her motherly instinct is such an encouragement 
to me to continue to work on tenderness. And then there is Carrie. She is my encouragement to not forget that they are all just still kids. :) 
It may be old news, but i had to add this story to my blog as i wanted to remember it for the kids' sake. I had great laying hens. They laid white, brown and green eggs. I never knew what i was going to get and i loved the beauty of the little pile of varying eggs that the kids would bring me each morning or evening. I would wash them, put them in a carton and they would usually be used before the case was filled. This is all in the past tense. There is perhaps a little bit of history that needs to be filled in. The last group of laying hens we got were "rescued" from an industrial egg farm and they looked like they'd lived 100 years in the 1 year they had survived their cramped quarters
at the farm they came from. We let them roam free in the summer and they laid where they wanted. The kids would go out every day to find the favourite spots and bring in the eggs. We had roosters too and the kids always hoped that one of the "rescued" hens would miraculously decide to go against all they had lived up to that point and actually lay on her prize and become a "cluck" (mother hen). None of them ever did. We hatched out two more batches of laying hens in the living room incubator and bought some fancier varieties to mix up the hen yard, so ended up with more roosters than we wanted. Curt took all the roosters over to his dad's place. (I'm sure he appreciated that cacophony!) Eventually we took a big bunch of them to the auction and sold them to the thrill of the kids. Well, this spring i was enjoying my little handful of daily eggs. It was perfect. Not the HUGE bucket loads we used to get that i had to clean, but about 5 a day, all different. Suddenly though, the eggs quit coming in. The answer was always, "There aren't any out there." or "No eggs today!" I wondered what was going on and finally was informed that my husband and children had conspired against me, had taken the lot of my hens over to Grandpas place where they had access to roosters and were determined to get one of the laying hens to hatch out her own batch of chicks. Not long after that confession, there was excitement. Something had hatched over at Grandpas. Fresh chicks. No incubators with artificial heat and humidity set to the absolute perfect mix, rocking the eggs day and night in my living room, just mama hen, papa rooster and the perfect design of God. Life contained within that shell, sustained by the life of their mother sitting patiently and waiting. New life is so shockingly complex and yet so simply beautiful.
Our Manx cats "Meister" and "Bulls Eye" were pregnant at the same time this spring. On Saturday morning, Robin went out to check Meister and her babies only to find that Bulls Eye had begun to deliver her new baby kits right on top of her sisters' litter! I guess Bulls Eye liked the look of Meister's little nest. Meister was beside herself with motherly care, licking off her sister, her sisters' new babies and purring to beat the band. We separated the batches when Meister looked like she was about to claim all of the kittens for herself. We made a cozy little nest for Bulls Eye in a box close by but when we came out later, Meister's kittens were alone and the two mama's were enjoying the fresh babies together in the new box. Still later the kids went out to find that Meister had switched spots with Bulls Eye and taken over the new brood as her own! We had to pen up the new mama and kits so that they would get their mama's first milk. I am not naturally an animal person but the whole display intrigued me. Funny how animals react to new babies. There is excitement even in the animal kingdom. :)
