Lucky

 Grandbaby #7, whom I dubbed Lucky for referring to at this little place here, was born at the end of January.  

DS2 and Surprise had kept the gender a secret until after the birth, so until I got the proud phone call from DS2 announcing baby's arrival, I didn't know for sure that Lucky is a little boy!  (Confession time:  I'd really been hoping that Lucky would be a boy.  DS2 and Surprise have been trying to start their family for a while, and I just really hoped that DS2 would get to have a son. Daughters are good too, and hopefully God will give them one of those in the coming years, but if it was/is going to be just one child for them, I was rooting for a boy.)

Given that I was supposed to be making a 'gender neutral' quilt for this grandbaby, whose gender was top secret, I really had a hard time.  Surprise had said yellow, green, gray, some blue, maybe a tiny bit of purple.  I wanted to stick with that palette even though it wasn't one that I was drawn to.

I knew what pattern I wanted to use--square in a square--but as far as what fabrics, well the ones that kept speaking to me leaned toward the boyish. 

It all started with the feature fabric, which is a Disney print.  As soon as I saw that fabric online, I knew it was the one for this quilt--DS2 and Surprise met by accident at Walt Disney World 10 years ago.  So the Disney themed fabric absolutely had to be for Lucky's quilt.  Had that chance meeting between a New Jersey girl and a Michigan boy not happened at Disney World, there would be no Lucky.

After that, I just went through my stash and found fabrics I all ready owned that coordinated with the colors in the Disney Fabric.  Yellow, green, gray and some blue. 

For a day or two I debated throwing in a light pink or purple which also looked okay, but in the end I omitted those two colors because they just didn't 'feel right' to me. I sewed the quilt, the whole time hoping it wasn't going to turn out too overtly saying 'boy quilt' and have Lucky turn out to be a girl and then have Surprise not really want to use the quilt made specifically for that child because it wasn't girlish enough.

So it was kind of a relief when DS2 called and said that Lucky is a boy.  Now I didn't feel quite so nervous about gifting the quilt I made.  It's still pretty much gender-neutral, especially bordered in the yellow fabric I chose.

Lucky's very gender neutral quilt (heavy on the yellow)

Gender-neutral backing (heavy on the green)

The day Lucky was born, I had finished quilting but hadn't yet sewn on the binding of the quilt.  Which didn't end up being a big deal, because DS2 and Surprise requested no visitors for at least the first week after Lucky's birth.  So that gave me time to hand sew the binding down.

Lucky was 8 days old when DH and I got to see him.  He's a little skinny bugger, weighing in at less than 7 pounds at birth and being 19.5" long.  But he's really strong all ready and has pretty good neck strength/head control for a newborn.  Both DS2 and Surprise are fair skinned, so odds are good that Lucky will be too.  We'll have to wait several months to see if his eyes will be blue like DS2, or greenish like Surprise.  Right now they are the typical newborn bluish grey and he has thin dark brown hair (which, if it's anything like my kids and several of my older grandkids as babies, will fall out and come back in blond or sandy colored for the first 5ish years.)

Requiem For a Rooster

 

This is Stuart.  Stuart came to this little place here as a 'free mystery chick' in an order from McMurray Hatchery back in 2018.  He was a little bitty ball of fluff, and, as a day old, I thought he might be a bantam of some sort.  In fact, his size is what gave him his name: Stuart Little. As he grew, and his adult feathers came in, and he displayed an atypically luxurious tail of long black/green feathers, I finally figured out that he wasn't a bantam at all, but a Silver Phoenix.

Stuart got to stay at this little place here partly because of his unique breed with it's long flowing tail (visitors always complimented me on my beautiful rooster) and partly because he was, for the most part, a very friendly and non-aggressive roo.  Very occasionally he would challenge me, typically the first time I'd wear shorts in the Spring and he wouldn't recognize my legs, but usually he was a mellow guy and would even walk up to greet me.

Coming to see me on the patio.

Stuart got to sire a bunch of the chicks that hatched out in DD2's science summer school classes in 2021 and 2022.  We even kept a couple of his 2021 daughters here (who laid lovely green eggs, being half Ameracauna and half Silver Phoenix) for a while.  He was great with his hens, very protective.

Unfortunately, a week and a half ago, Stuart went out with his ladies to forage in the corn stubble on a nice late January day.  That night, when I counted chickens to shut them into the coop for the night, Stuart was missing. I searched high and low, even following chicken tracks out and around in the field, but found no sign of him.  Not a carcass, not any feathers, not even a speck of blood.  And since Stuart has always returned to the coop, every single night, I had to face the fact that he's gone.  Most likely carried off by a hawk while he was out in the field having fun rummaging in the corn stubble for kernels and calling his ladies to come enjoy the feast he'd found.

RIP Stuart.  You were a good rooster.  One of the best, one of my favorites of the last 21 years.

Buck and Papa

 Buck is in a phase where he absolutely adores his Papa (DH) and asks to see him.  He's a few months past his second birthday, and yes, he actually asks to come over to this little place here and hang out with his Papa.

Almost two weeks ago, he got to do this solo for the first time ever.  After a rocky few minutes right after getting dropped off and then realizing it was just him, Papa, and I, which evoked some tears and calling for his Daddy, he settled in.  

The first thing he wanted to do was have a snack. Papa is always up for a snack, so they had venison summer sausage (made by Papa this past hunting season) and cheese.  I forget the exact conversation held while snacking, but it included Buck gesturing out towards our woods and saying that Papa sits in the trees.

The next thing he wanted to do was do some puzzles.  We tried to interest him in the easy toddler puzzles we have--the wooden kind with less than a dozen pieces, but he had his heart set on the 48-piece Frozen puzzles we have.  With Papa's help, he was able to match up the colors and designs on the pieces and put the puzzle together.  I snapped a picture during the twenty minutes or so they took to work on the first puzzle.  Once that one was done, he insisted on doing another (we have three Frozen puzzles).

Like Papa, Buck has a stocky build and thick hands.  He's also got Papa's blue eyes.  Hopefully not Papa's hairline, although they say guys inherit that trait through their mother and to look at the mother's father to see if they will be balding or not, so poor Buck is probably doomed since his mom is DD1, daughter of Papa.

Buck hadn't had a nap before arriving at this little place here, despite his parents' best efforts.  Unfortunately for him, that meant that he fell asleep while sitting on Papa's lap and having Papa read to him.  After sleeping for an hour, he woke up ready to play again, with two goals in mind:

1. Ride on the tractor with Papa (who let him 'steer' )
2. Ride on the 4-wheeler with Papa (who didn't let him steer as his arms are still too short to span the handlebar).

We had an inch or so of snow on the ground, so Papa got out the sled with the long rope on it, and pulled Buck around on the sled behind the 4-wheeler for a little bit.  He biffed it once, Buck having gotten to rocking the sled from side to side and flipped over when he rocked a little too far.  That got him a mouthful of snow, but when Papa circled back around to him with the sled he was game to climb back on and go again.

Once the sled and 4-wheeler had been put away, he told us that he wanted to "go home and eat with my family" rather than stay for dinner.  (Buck doesn't talk a lot, but when he feels so moved, he has lots and lots of words.  And opinions.) So Papa took him home.

It's a Dry Cold

 You know how people talk about the summer heat in the southwest or desert part of the US as being not as bad as the heat in the more wetter parts of the country?  How they say the high temperatures are more tolerable there because "It's a dry heat" with low humidity?

Well, right now the Midwest is in a cold spell.  So cold that the area schools (at least those of several counties around this little place here) are closed because it is 'too cold' to be safe for the kids to go to school.

I kind of get it, if you don't have adequate clothing (heavy coat, hats, gloves, scarves, boots, etc) for the winter temperatures.  That can be bad.  And unfortunately it seems that more and more parents don't provide their kids with insulated boots, warm coats, sturdy pants that block the wind, hats, gloves, etc.  My feelings on that lack are rant-worthy.  However, that's not what I'm posting about today.

Because if you do have adequate gear, these zero and sub-zero temps aren't all that terrible.

I actually like these temperatures (barely above zero this morning when I was out doing chores, with moderate wind bringing wind chill to around 5ish below zero) better than when it's in the mid thirties or the forties here.  

Because it's a dry cold.  

There's no component of dampness, and I stay warmer in my layers in frigid air than I do with warmer temps, less layers and higher moisture in the ground and air around me.  Layer up, and keep moving; that's the secret.

Despite the 'dangerous' cold today, I'm wishing I was outside on a pair of cross-country skis.  It's a great day for gliding around, enjoying winter.

That Silent Language of Marriage

 You know how when you've been married a while, it's almost like you can read each other's thoughts?

Like the two of you have a special language that nobody else knows?

I think after 34 years together, DH has just about gotten the non-verbal communication down to an art. (Still needs work on the verbal though, ha ha.)

For instance, that stack of receipts on the kitchen counter near the toaster?  Those are his, and by setting them there he's saying "Honey, accountant of the family, here are some expenditures for you to notate and file."

And when there's a pair of his socks, or a sweatshirt of his, or a muddy pair of jeans laying directly in front of the washing machine, he's saying "Love of My Life, I need you to wash these so I can wear them again."

Can you guess what he's saying in each of the following pictures?

"I only wore these for a couple of hours, to church, so they are still clean.  Best Hanger-Upper of Clothes Ever, please but them back on hangers and hang them in my closet because I don't know how.  Oh, there's two pair of pants because I pulled out the wrong ones at first, but they came off the hanger so I couldn't put them back, I had to put them on the bed."

"Dear Wife, I have used all the coffee beans in this bag and I shall perish tomorrow without coffee unless you magically supply me with a new bag, located in the freezer of the basement fridge (aka the beer fridge)"

"Wonderful Cleaner of Our Home, next time you go to the basement, please take this newspaper I have finished reading and put it in the stack of newspapers down there that we use when lighting the charcoal grill."

And one I forgot to take a picture of, but will describe so you can guess what he'ssaying. The blue container next to the coffee maker in the picture about being out of coffee beans is where he dumps the used coffee filters and grounds.  When he can't stuff any more in it, he sets the container on the kitchen island (which is about three feet away from the coffee area). 

Which, of course, means "Most Awesome Woman, please walk out to the compost bin at the garden and dump this container of grounds so that they can become a soil amendment and I can have room in the container when I need to put a used filter in it tomorrow after making coffee."

Have you noticed a hint of sarcasm while reading this?  If so, you're right.  I don't fully appreciate DH's habits involving leaving stuff he wants taken care of right in my way so I will see them (and maybe trip over them--newspaper by the door to the basement stairs, dirty clothes in front of the washing machine) and deal with them without him actually having to take the time to find me and ask me to do these things.  Or, heaven forbid, learning to do them himself (hanging up clothes).

But, in the grand scheme of things, these are minor things to be annoyed at my husband over.  Can't let molehills become mountains.

I do have to admit I have my own idiosyncrasies that he probably doesn't really appreciate either.

C'est la vie.

A Whole Bunch of Random

 Back in November, during firearm deer hunting season here in Michigan, I didn't get out into the tree stand much.  But when I did, the first time, I found that the squirrels had pretty much destroyed the seat cushion for the tree stand I use (that DH had put up in October).

That hunt was fairly uncomfortable, sitting on a cushion that was one narrow strip (the cushiony part) and several large spots with no filling between my gluteus maximus and the metal frame of the tree stand.

By the third time I went out to hunt, DH had dug up a new 'cushion' (a not very squishy foam board--very likely ancient and petrified) to temporarily replace the one the squirrels excavated for nest insulation material.  I used farmer ingenuity and secured it to the tree stand with baling twine.  Because, baling twine.  LOL.  If you know, you know.

In early December, DH was out of town the week of my birthday.  DD2 was also away, so I was home alone.  Rather than just kind of not have a birthday, like I've done in recent years when DH is away on my natal date, this year I decided to celebrate myself.

So I bought myself a (cheap) bouquet of flowers from the grocery store, ordered a yummy "salad" (lettuce, chicken, rice, roasted corn, black beans, guacamole)  from the local Mexican restaurant to be ready for pickup when I was done bringing horses in for their evening feed, and made myself a small cake (chocolate with peanut butter frosting).  I even put two candles in it, leftover from when K3 and Toad were very young and often were here on short notice for an indefinite amount of time (number 5 and number 3, my current age).  I of course lit them so I could make a wish and blow them out.  It's not a real birthday party without blowing out the candles.

Silly?  Maybe.  But it was better than pretending it wasn't actually my birthday just because no one else was around to celebrate with me. 

I forgot to set aside a bit of frosting to add food coloring to and use for decorating the cake, so instead of writing Happy Birthday on it, I used colored sprinkles to carefully spell out HAPPY.  The whole message being too big to write in sprinkles on an 8" x 8" cake.  Actually, I think maybe HAPPY will be my mantra for this year of my life.  There's been a whole lot of years of late that I was frustrated, overwhelmed, hurt (by and for others), and pretty much unhappy.  I'm rather tired of all that.  Happy is my desired goal from here on out.

We had a couple decent snows in December.  After one late in the month, I found myself walking in the woods (helping DH track a doe he'd shot during the late antlerless season) and took a picture of the trees in the snow.  I/We really need to get out there more and just walk around for the sake of wandering, not because we're working on finding a deer, or cutting/hauling firewood or tapping trees and collecting sap for syrup.  

Since the first of the year, I've started working on a new baby quilt.  Grandbaby #7 (who shall be dubbed with the name of Lucky here on the blog) is due on Valentine's Day.  This is the first child for DS2 and Surprise, and they are keeping the gender a secret until Lucky arrives.  Surprise suggested 'genderless' colors such as light blue, green, yellow, gray, for this quilt.  

As usual, I've taken that concept and am running with my own adaptation.  I'm not a pastel lover for baby quilts, especially as I make my grandkids quilts that will cover them until they are about 8 or 10 years old, not just as newborns.  I don't want a theme they will outgrow quickly.  And, since DS2 and Surprise originally met at Disney World 10 years ago, I just had to go with Mickey, Donald, Goofy and Pluto fabric too.

The weather has been rather cold lately, as it should be for January (but wasn't in Jan. 2024), and the Yarn Thief has been preferring to stay in the house rather than go outside to hunt birds and mice.  She's getting a bit of cabin fever, though, and while I was changing the sheets on my bed she crawled underneath the fitted sheet where she made a lump I couldn't smooth out.  This is a favorite game of hers that usually involves me getting one or more claws in my fingers as I'm trying to make the bed.

There have been other things happening around this little place here in recent months, and I'm hoping to turn a few of them into their own posts rather than including them here.  But I can't resist adding a couple pictures of  a Christmas present my kids got me.  I'm willing to bet I'm the only Mom who actually put these on her Wish List:

Caution cones!  Coming to a pseudo riding arena near me (okay, my temporary riding arena behind the barn) once the frigid weather breaks long enough for me to get back into the saddle.  I'm so excited to be able to set them up in multiple configurations to use as training aids.

Tell Me You're a Horse Girl. . .

 . . . without telling me "I'm a Horse Girl".  A review of 2024 in pictures.  In reverse chronological order of incident.

December. Whacked self in leg with 4" thick ice block trying to dump out (previously frozen and partially thawed) water trough alone.

Day 2

Also Day 2 (different view)

Day 9(ish)

September.  Broken fifth (?) metatarsal when Poetess spooked and landed hard on the edge of my foot on cement aisle of barn.  In her defense, something went whizzing by the open barn door at a high rate of speed.  I suspect it was DH on the 4-wheeler but never directly asked him. He was super worried afterward and super attentive, so that's kind of confession of guilt, right?

1 hour

3 days

(still very swollen)

5 days

2 months 15 days

(I think my foot is permanently colored like this now,

 hasn't faded more in the three weeks since this photo.)

April.  Little Black Mare stepped on me while dancing around in cross ties.

a few hours

Early April.  Poetess and I got our legs tangled up when I was wrapping a hind leg and the Yarn Thief decided to jump off the ladder to the hayloft and literally fly out the front door of the barn when she saw a horse in the aisle and freaked out (I assume as I didn't actually see it happening only noted where she was--with giant round eyes and a frizzed tail-- after I found myself crouched mostly under the Poetess's belly with her legs between mine).  Both Poetess and I were a little gimpy for a day or two afterwards.

Left, inner thigh/knee area

Right, shin/ankle

Did I seek medical attention for any of these?  PFFT.  No.  They're just bruises.  Well, except for the September broken foot.  I've had injuries like these before in the past (and did seek medical attention the first time around).  Experience tells me how to treat them.  And that toes/arch area of foot doesn't get casted.  So no need to spend time and money showing it to a doctor.

Which kinda says Hey, I'm a Horse Girl.