Sun Bathing

I wake up most mornings to this silly thing crying to be let out to the room at the top of the stairs. It’s where her own personal spot of sunshine hits and she lays there basking until every scrap of it is gone. On overcast days–when there is no sunlight whatsoever, Jiff will act mad at me for hours.  Like I’m in charge of the sun, and just not letting her have it, or something.

Maybe I need to get her a heat lamp and totally be the Goddess of all warmth and light.

I could live with that.

 

An Old Box…

And in that old box–packed away yeaaaaars ago, I found a ton of pretty little treasures that I could never seem to get rid of.  This little lady used to live in a plastic perfume bottle and smelled like Honeysuckle. The very first thing I did when I got her was to snatch her out of the bottle that was toooo small and dreadful for her to live in. I couldn’t bare it- so, I freed her.

Yeah, I was that kid.

Peter Pan lost his crocodile and his tights…but that cute little face…

After Christmas one year, we found a shopping cart FULL of these little Santa Kiddles and they were  19 cents each. Who comes up with these prices? ANYway, my mom made the comment that they’d be cute on the Christmas tree so my dad bought the whole pile of them. We had to wait the whole next year to see them on the tree, but it was dang magical. And all our friends went nuts over our tiny Santa doll tree.

This little dolly made me very sad, when I was a kid. One day while playing with her I casually took off her hood and discovered that she was completely bald. Not a shred of hair what so ever. Her purple bangs were attached to the hood.  It freaked me out something ferocious and I couldn’t play with her anymore.

Ahhhhhh….Snow White. She doesn’t look as new as the others because I played with her alllll the time. Dopey got lost–but his brothers are all there.

There was a girl at my school when I was in 5th grade who said that if we’d give her a dollar, her sister would get us these teeny little dolls. I was totally in. In fact, I gave her TWO dollars so she’d get me two. I was surprised that she brought me two of the same dolls, but hey, they are soooo cute. I was walking home from school with my already-opened mini babies when another girl from our class walked past me. She said, “Soooo, you know her sister is stealing those dolls and selling them at school, right?” I just stared at her. No, of course I didn’t know that. How could I know that? Never thought of such a thing…till then. Made me kind of sick inside. I told my mom and she said, “Well,  you can’t fix that. Just don’t ever give her money again.”

A sad lesson on the ways of the world, for this little girlie.

Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf. I combed her hair a lot. Good thing she has a hood.

Last, but not least, is the little Martian Kiddle. She used to have a teeny little space ship, but again, if it was cramped and small–my own claustrophobic issues would be transferred to the dolly…and I’d let her out.

Drove my sister nuts. She’d say, “Why do you DO that?! You never keep your dolls nice. Mine still look new.” And it was true. She had some dolls with the plastic still on their hair to keep it all smooth while some of mine were an absolute mess from being brushed and dressed and brushed some more. But I’ll tell you what. If dolls have a soul of some kind, deep inside it, alllll my dolls knew they were loved–loved bald headed perhaps…

but loved. And that’s ok.

One Broody Chick

Sooooo…you know how my cute little chickens go in their nesting boxes once a day, and leave  me a perfectly beautiful, light brown egg, then jump out and go their merry way?

Yes, well, that is how it’s suppose to go. But all of a sudden, our sweet little Honey–a lovely Cuckoo Maran–stopped coming out of the nesting box when she was suppose to.  No matter how many times I physically took her out and set her in the yard, or the straw, or the snow (!) she would just end up right back in the box.

This, my friends, is what we call a “broody hen.” For some reason, a hen will see a clutch of eggs, just laying there, minding their own business, and get the idea that she should jump in and hatch them. Now, as sweet as that may sound, there are several things wrong here.

First, we have twelve beautiful hens–HENS, meaning, there isn’t a rooster around for miles. Therefore, Honey can sit there for a week of Tuesdays, but ain’t no babies hatching–if you know what I’m saying.

Second, when a hen is setting on eggs, she doesn’t eat or drink properly for about 21 days–because she is too busy tending to her “babies.” It’s not particularly good for her–especially if there are actually no babies to make the sacrifice for.

Third, Honey was setting on perfectly good, infertile eggs and when I would reach for them, or her–she started getting a bit feisty–pecking and growling at me. Yeah, I didn’t know that chickens could growl, but I’m telling you–they can. Kinda creepy.

And lastly, while she’s having this little pretend mama adventure, she isn’t laying any new eggs. In fact, everyday she’s stubbornly setting on 5 or 6 eggs that aren’t even hers! I take her out, she finds a nest with eggs I haven’t gotten to yet, and claims them. Yes, yes. A bit tiresome, indeed.

What to do…what to do? I checked out all the Chicken Advice blogs and read tons of ideas that didn’t set right with me. Some were silly and some were downright mean. I found the best idea at the Chicken Chick site. Tons of chicky wisdom here.

 

Introducing the Broody Buster!! Ok, ok….it’s a rabbit hutch–but it’s gonna do the trick!

The idea is that you have to re-route all those displaced mama chicken hormones by putting her in a wire bottom cage by herself for a few days–with no eggs to sit on. Cool air to help her remember that all the eggs in the universe do NOT in fact, belong to her.

My, oh my, oh MY…was she ticked!

Little Honey was fussing and buzzing around in that cage, with a “Whyyyy I outta…” look on her little pouty-beak face.

It only took 3 days of chicky time out and she was CURED!!!

 

I open the cage door on day 3 and she whipped out of there like a bat out of….well, you know. It was fast.

 

Our dear Honey has finally gone back to her normal chicken ways.

And she has promised to behave herself from now on.

But I’m leaving the cage in the coop–as a reminder…

just in case.

 

Diglett

 

Beckham asked for a Pokemon Diglett.  How hard could it be?  Why….I won’t even need a pattern.

Of course, right. But it severely complicates things when you wait waaaaay too long to finish it, and end up sewing the rocks and dirt around him in the car, ON THE WAY to the birthday party.

I had planned to do a way better job with this one. In fact, I told Beck that I wanted to make his eyes shiny and put tons more dirt around him but he said, “No, I like him just like that.”

So, the lesson learned here is do it right BEFORE the kid sees it because you won’d have time for redemption afterwards. Hahaha.

But even the baby was taken with it.

I’d love to stick around, but I’m afraid there are more birthdays coming.

Gotta go sew.

Snorlax

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Perhaps your kids are all Pokemon crazy these days–like mine and my grandkids are.

When I asked the three that have January birthdays, what they would like Grammy to make them…I wasn’t a bit surprised.

Miss Chomp asked for a Snorlax. That’s him above.

“Can you do that Grammy?”

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With a little help from 3 different patterns on the internet…

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I did the best I could.

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It was a pretty fun adventure and in the end…

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I’d say,  “Why yes, Miss Chomp..I believe I can.