So, you could have had your choice of photos in this journal entry, so I put it to a vote; 1). The sunrise, B). A 'possum that was in no hurry to get anywhere (especially away from me). or 3). The photo of the chick that survived the night (just barely), but did not make it much longer. My legion of followers chose the sunrise photo, good choice. Let's talk about chicks. The chicks we got yesterday were (what?) 2 to 4 days old. They have been shipped via US Postal Service, so the fact that any of them survived is a miracle. Then there is the handling and carousing that goes on in a feed store, and then they get caught by someone else and put into yet another box, and then they are driven to some other place and put into another pen. That is enough to wear on a chick. So, I know it is terrible, awful, AWFUL that the chick did not survive, but that is what happens. That chick is now going to come back as a wild flower in the grand lawn, so that is a good thing. Next year, when the evening primrose and the Indian Blankets push up, we can all think about the little chick that couldn't.That is all.
JoeMac has been working like a banshee with me around the house this weekend, and we have made major accomplishments. Perfect. He will need to get home so he can get some rest from his vacay, which is not too foreign of a concept for many of us, but in my case I hope the vacay includes a giant water-slide.
Deeds, Actions, Changes, CHICKS, Kindnesses, Whirled Peas, FUN!
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