I imagine it is common for one to like the month that hosts their happy birthday.  With fond childhood memories of surprise pool parties, more ice cream than one person wearing a bathing suit should ever consume, new bicycles, a guinea pig, fancy dinners at fancy restaurants ~ all just a few days following the last day of school.  What's not to love?

Marrying a prince has made my adult birthday memories pretty epic as well with a surprise trip to Paris. long leisurely dinners at fabulous restaurants, getaways with friends in tow, lots of champagne, and quite a few lovely baubles.  As much as I love a good party and being the center of attention for that matter ~ something profound happened to me when we moved to New England.  Everyday feels like my happy birthday.  There is so much to discover and savor and celebrate that one day is just not enough to contain it all. I am filled with gratitude to God, the giver of every good and perfect gift and filled with contentment for the enumerable blessings that surround me every day.  An amazing husband, two sweet dogs, hilarious chickens, and a garden that is beginning to show a return for our labor.  

To June ~ cheers!

This month the girls turn one year old and I can happily say it has been fun and fabulous to discover that I have a genuine affinity for raising chickens.  From the time they arrived I have enjoyed watching them explore their surroundings, giggling at their awkwardness, and surprised how smart and not so smart they can be.  Sadly, we lost 2 girls early on to a hawk… (moment of silence) but we have yet to loose one to Harriet.  It’s been close on a few occasions but the chickens have learned to scatter when Keith or I scream, “HARRIET! NO CHICKENS!!”  As they transitioned from baby chick to full-grown fat and fluffy chicken, I did take notice of a bossy one among the flock.  She pushed her way to the front of whatever line was forming, pecking a few ladies along the way.  Then she started “cock-a-doodle-dooing” which I thought was quite strange, but not completely unheard of.  Then her feathers started to change from the other hens bringing some serious gender identification issues.  I referenced my nightstand copy of “Storey’s Guide to Raising Chickens” and learned that this does in fact happen and should rectify itself after the first molt.  I shared my newfound wisdom with my neighbor and long-time chicken keeper, Jonathan, to which he promptly announced “Zsa, Zsa”, he calls me that sometimes, “That is a rooster!” And so it is.  Given my blessing to become anything he/she wants to be, Red, has grown up into a proper looking rooster and does a fine job of keeping the ladies safe and in-line. Our little flock of 9 hens are producing 7-9 of the most delicious eggs a day and I could not be happier to add chicken raising to my list of favorite things.