First of the season

I don't know why, but the first lawn mowing of the season seems like one of those momentous occasions that I should record in my blog/diary. After we had a bunch of rain a few weeks ago, the grass decided it liked growing again, so Seth begrudingly got out the lawn mower (although the boys were thrilled to see it, again) and rather unceremoniously did the first mowing of the season this past Monday.

I must have been too busy last spring to capture the moment (alas), but here they are from 2011 and
2010.

And, I also wanted to note that my strawberry plants already have blossoms. That seems a bit early.

And the frost we're supposed to have tonight confirms my suspicions.

T - W

 I've fallen behind on posting Kieran's weekly show-and-tell item.

What? You didn't notice?

Do me a favor and pretend you did.

 

Thomas the Train was taken for T week.

 

Letter U week was a block with U items on it (umbrella, unicorn, etc.). Letter V was, well, the letter V. I thought about sending him in with my vaccum cleaner but didn't think that would have gone over very well. Really, what else begins with V?

 

And, now we've arrived at letter W week. Is there any doubt about what he took? When he walked in with his weedwacker, his teacher said, "Oh, of course you brought your weedwacker! It's what you talk about all the time and want to draw pictures of all the time!" At least he's consistent.

Finding their wings

My blog is kind of like a diary for me. Except that I don't record my deep, dark secrets here. For which you can be grateful. You're welcome.

Anyway, our new chickens were getting rowdy and scratchy and peepy and were in general need of stretching their wings in the box in our kitchen, and I was wondering how long I needed to wait until I could move them outside. So I looked up, diary-ish, when I had sent the previous chicks outside and found they were about five weeks old when I forced them to call the chicken coop "home" three years ago.

Our new chicks are about that old (give or take), and since we seemed to have skipped Spring and gone right to Summer, I figured it was time to graduate the little girls to the outside world.

So I spent last Sunday afternoon cleaning (which a relative word when it comes to chicken coops) the Eglu and coop, and then introduced the girls to their new digs.

(Cael offered to check the nesting box for eggs, which I'd already removed, much to his chagrin.)

They were a bit apprehensive and skittish but were happy to see their beloved food tray had traveled with them.

The three older chickens leave the younger ones alone for the most part, although there's the occasional reminder of who is in charge. The first day, the older ones were wandering around the yard and ignoring the little ones, so much so that Cael ran out to the older ones and yelled, "Hey, there's baby chicks in there! There's baby chicks in there!" They ignored him, too.

I'm happy to have my kitchen back and am happy that I have a diary/blog that helps me remember momentous occasions (and helps me know when I can transition baby chicks to the great outdoors).

23 Months

Same shirt as last month (really, he has more than one shirt), different haircut (thanks to Aunt Ruth, who came for a visit on Sunday and provided her haircutting services).

He likes to pretend to ride Kieran's bike (he probably would actually ride it if his legs were longer) and wear his daddy's hat(s).

And he likes to actually ride the quad I bought for Kieran last year at a yard sale. He's almost got the hang of it, but still doesn't quite understand what makes it go, what makes it stop, and how to steer. Usually, he accidentally pushes the pedal and then we run beside him, making sure he stays on the road.

You know you live in a holler when . . .

. . . the deed to your property (which I just found because we're in the process of refinancing) reads, in part:

"Beginning at a stone found at the northwest corner . . . thence S along the quarter section Line to a pipe in the center of a branch . . . thence along the quarter section line to a railroad spike in the road . . . from an iron pipe found in place at the northeast corner along the north line to an iron pin . . . thence Northerly along the approximate center of a creek."

Sure hope those pipes and rocks and spikes and branches don't move . . . .

The C-Word

I don't know of anyone whose family or friends have been untouched by cancer. Over the years, its tentacles have come closer and closer to our family -- both my maternal grandparents died of cancer, my cousin's little girl is currently fighting leukemia, Seth's aunt died of breast cancer, a friend is dealing with lung cancer, and other friends have already lost their battle but gained eternity with their Creator.

And we've prayed, and continue to pray, for our friends and family who have dealt with this nasty disease, asking the Lord to heal as He chooses, to pour out His grace and mercy, to bring comfort and peace, to give wisdom.

But nothing quite prepares you for that phone call from your Mom, who says, "I have breast cancer."

A routine mammogram in December revealed a lump. A biopsy showed it was cancerous. A lumpectomy followed. The lymph nodes were clear but the tumor was 2 cm, giving a diagnosis of Stage 2A breast cancer. Today, she began radiation treatment to eradicate any remaining cancer cells. Because of the size of her tumor, she won't need chemotheraphy (the harsh treatment that makes your hair fall out, etc.) but will undergo radiation for the next six weeks.

There's much we're thankful for -- early detection, a small(er) confined tumor, chemo is unnecessary, and, most importantly . . . that God is still God. He is still sovereign -- even over cancer -- and He is always good -- even when He uses the ugliness of a disease to bring about our ultimate good and His glory.

When Dr. John Piper was diagnosed with cancer years ago, he wrote a short ten points, entitled Don't Waste Your Cancer. I've read it several times in the past but read it again with new eyes recently, and I was encouraged.

We're asking the Lord to heal completely as He chooses (no more occurences of cancer), to pour out His grace and mercy on my mom, to bring her comfort and peace about this path He's placed her on, and to give wisdom to my parents and the doctors as they continue down the path of treatment.

We're not without a range of emotions over this diagnosis and it's surely not an easy one to receive and bear with. The radiation treatments will be difficult, and cancer, even when in remission, is considered a "chronic disease." But this we know and cling to: God is good . . . all the time.

Those awkward teenage weeks

As with many other human beings, I went through an awkward teenage phase. I can't believe I'm sharing this with you, but here's my proof. Please be kind.

This is me in the sixth grade, just beginning that not-so-sweet-get-me-out-of-here stage of life. Please tell me you went through awkward teenage years, too.

Instead of taking years to mature, in a matter of a few days, our new chicks moved from the fluffy-furball stage to the growing-feathers tween weeks (these pix were taken March 23).

 Speckled Sussex

Rhode Island Red 

Welsummers 

Araucana

And then just as quickly moved from tweens to awkward teens with sketchy feathers during the past 10 days. 

 Speckled Sussex

Rhode Island Red

Welsummers

 Araucana

I can only wish that I had moved through human pubescence as quickly as my avian counterparts . . . .