Last week, I took a trip with a few of my girlfriends to Porto, Portugal. I had never been to Portugal and when the opportunity arouse, I could not resist saying yes! I was curious about what I would see in Portugal and began doing research along with my girlfriends. There were a few things on the list that I definitely wanted to see. I wanted to see historical places, churches, taste local food, absorb the culture, sights, sounds and smells. I also wanted to visit the cafe and bookstore that J.K. Rowling frequented while teaching English in Porto to school children while writing Harry Potter.
Spring is my favorite season. I know I say that all the time, but I absolutely love it. Perhaps, it’s because of the new life that it promises, new chances and new beginnings. The air is crisp and clean and filled with song birds with swirl breezes filled with hints of early blooms around my head. Lots of wonderful springy thing are happening around here.
I didn’t expect to find Lucy dead on the floor of the coop as I went in that bright sunny afternoon the Friday before Easter. I had just seen her in the morning and she and I had our usually interaction. As I was busying myself tidying up the coop, Lucy was my constant companion, chatting away with her deep voice sharing all chicken things with me. She’d come in and out, nuzzle near for a quick pat on the back. To and fro, she has been my daily escort for years. As a result, we had developed a little ritual that I looked forward to every morning.
I’ve always loved birds. The intrigue and the lure of their world has always called to me, even in my dreams. As a little girl, I can remember having the most amazing dreams about flying. I was just high enough that when I would soar over the crowds, no one could reach me with their upward stretching arms. Now as part of spring’s promises, it’s hard to miss their singing. Because their songs start early, perched in the bushes and tree outside my bedroom window. Even more, I like to think that the birds are announcing spring’s arrival, just as regal trumpets would announce the arrival of royalty.
Happy New Year friends! It’s hard to believe that we are ushering in a new year already. Did you have time to make any new year resolutions yet? It seems the most popular ones each year often have to do with getting into shape, eating better, or getting motivated to reach new goals. This got me thinking over the holidays, just what would be some good inspirational new year resolutions with inspiration from the chickens?
I’ve been trying. I really have. Grief is a funny thing. One minute it’s not there and the next minute you find yourself with tears streaming down your face for no particular reason. Like falling leaves, the tears just simply come when you are walking out the mailbox, cooking dinner, spending time with loved ones. They just come. I guess you could say I have been heartbroken. As I looks back, I was lucky. It took me many years until I had to experience this deep kind of grief. I thought that I knew grief from so many years of helping others through it in my nursing career, saying goodbye to loved ones, grandparents, aunts, uncles and favorite pets. For the first time, I can honestly say that I have a hole in my heart.
Hello friends. I wanted to take a moment to share the past few months with you. Life has thrown us an unexpected curve. We lost my Dad of 28 years unexpectedly this summer after dealing with some things since spring. It threw us all into a tail spin and all of us went into survival mode. It was a loss that rippled across all of our lives and the most difficult of all was watching my children have to suffer as they did. Their hearts were broken and mine broke even more than I though possible watching my own children learn how to grieve and rebound from loss.
Spring has taken it’s sweet time to come to Cape Cod. Still with temperatures in the 40s at night- mid May, it seems as though everything is stalled. Beautiful annuals that usually spill from the window boxes on the front of my home were also delayed. The window boxes lay dormant and lifeless. Still filled with dead, brown and decaying evergreen branches, it was time to do some thing about it. This was not the first time, but little did I expect to discover a bird’s nest.
I’m having so much fun traveling and sharing my new book, How to Speak Chicken. I can’t tell you how many emails, messages, and in-person requests that I have received to create recordings of the chickens’ vocalizations that I share and “translate in my book”. Chickens have their own language, and over the years I have been able to decipher what they are saying. I am excited to share with you my insight into some of the more common phrases. Yes, the vocalizations that you hear in the sound bits below are me. This is my “chicken voice” and how I “speak chicken” with my flock.
I think one of the most wonderful things about visiting the Magnolia Silos has to be a stop at the Silos Baking Co. Did you know that the bakery was originally called Magnolia Flour? The very bakery that was featured on an episode of Fixer Upper, is still delighting guests. Lines typically form and wrap around the building. If you know what to expect, it’s actually a system that is pretty efficient. The experience of course, is so gorgeous. I wish we could linger in this small space. It smells so good. Think sugar, butter and cupcakes!