A rant

Warning: I don't usually rant here, but I read a news article today that really ticked me off. If you don't like what I'm saying, sorry.

Just a few days ago, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Washington D.C.'s gun ban is unconstitutional. By banning guns in the city and not allowing residents to own firearms, the law is in violation of our Second Amentment right to "keep and bear arms."

Besides being a fan of the constitution, as a former neighbor to D.C., I'm glad the ban was lifted. The crime rate in that city is ridiculous, with gun crimes always increasing. Since shooting someone is illegal and people still do it, I've always found it beyond stupid to outlaw guns as a way to deter gun crimes. If you're willing to kill someone, you're not going to stop just because it's illegal to own a gun!

I did a paper a couple of years ago about the ineffectiveness of gun bans. Britain has had a ban in place for many years now. It goes so far as to stop police from having guns. Only those in special situations can have them. And yet the rate of crimes involving guns continues to climb. It's pretty clear the only people abiding by the gun laws are law-abiding citizens. You know, the types who don't typically go and rob stores with or without at gun point.

Okay, so what got me ranting? An article today on Yahoo News about Chicago. That city has a similar gun ban and as soon as the Supreme Court's decision was announced, that ban was challenged in a lawsuit. Here are a few paragraphs from that article:

But all the talk about greater freedoms for gun owners doesn't begin to explain what the ruling means in Chicago, which has seen a recent spate of gun violence.

Nine people were killed in 36 shootings during one weekend this spring. The next week, five people were found shot to death inside a South Side home.

Chicago Public Schools officials say 27 students have been killed by gunfire since September.

Pamela Bosley lost her 18-year-old son two years ago, when a bullet struck him as he helped a fellow student unload instruments outside a South Side Church.

"If you didn't have the guns, we'd still have our children," she said.

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Chicago's gun ban law has been in place 26 years. 26 YEARS! I'm sorry Pamela Bosley lost her son two years ago, but her comment is so stupid it makes me want to slap her. Guns were banned and she still lost her son. Gun laws do not get rid of guns. Gun laws make it difficult or impossible for the law-abiding citizen to defend his life and his family. Prostitution is illegal, but we still have hookers. Drugs are illegal, but we still have users and dealers all over the streets. What kind of idiot do you have to be to think that making guns illegal is going to do squat? I guess the kind of idiot who writes for the media and uses clear examples of how the gun ban isn't working as an argument FOR gun bans.

You want to stop the violent crime that often involves guns? Dig deeper than band-aid legislation. The American culture, once that shining example of freedom and the American dream of if you work hard, you'll succeed, is now nothing more than a I'm-not-responsible-for-my-actions, give-me-what-I-want-now, to-hell-with-God-and-anyone-else-who-isn't-me mentality. We are reeping what we sowed. Stupid gun laws that harm only those who obey the laws are not going to fix that. They just make the good people sitting ducks.

Impulse buy

I went to Gainesville today. I met up with Christa there. On the drive over, I noticed the marquee on Ace Hardware announcing: "Chicks are here." Interesting. So after hanging with Christa, I called Steve and told him about the sign and wondered if I should check it out. He said I should, so I did.

The store had two types of chicks there: Three Anconas, which are a very pretty bird originally from Italy, and a slew of Black Sex Links. I shied away from the Anconas for two reasons. One, they're very active birds and I didn't know how well they'd take to being confined 24/7 (even with a very spacious coop/run combo). Two, I didn't know if they were pullets or cockerels. Black Sex Links (also called Black Stars, I believe) are a hybrid mix stemming from a Plymouth Rock hen and a Rhode Island Red rooster. They're good layers. More importantly, because they're a Sex Link, you can tell if they're boys or girls based on their down color.

The chicks were only about a day old. They had plenty of pullets. So . . . I bought two of them. After some pondering, I've given them Harry Potter names.

Here's Hermione.


And here's Ginny. She has a slight reddish hue to her head and wing.


I jokingly told Steve that I should have bought four, because we have four Buff Orpington pullets and four Rhode Island Red pullets. I expected him to chuckle and say no. Imagine my surprise when he was fine with the idea. So I may be making a run to Melrose tomorrow to get two more chicks. And Steve already came up with Harry Potter names for them if I do: Tonks and Luna.

I guess we're both chicken crazy! LOL

Around the Garden

It's been very interesting here at Caer Myrddin. That's the name of our property. Steve dubbed it that when we first bought the land, but we never made a sign or anything. Now that we're branching out with livestock and veg, I figured it made sense to use the name. Anyway, nature has been providing a lot of new things out here so far this year.

Twice on the way home from work, Steve's encountered deer on Bondarenko Road. We've frequently seen deer at the end of Trawick, near the paved road, but never back here. So that's exciting.

Our quaking aspen is blooming for the first time. The flowers are green, so they don't look like much. But boy do the insects love them! The tree literally buzzes, because it is swarmed by yellow jackets, paper wasps, other small types of wasps, bumblebees, and honey bees! I'm particularly excited about the honey bees, because some kind of disease has decimated the wild population and I've not seen any for some time. I've tried to take photos of the bees, but the yellow jackets don't like me getting so close and dive bomb me.

Our pond has a healthy frog population. And my water lily is blooming like never before. I've had nearly a dozen blooms since late April. In previous years, I was luck to get six. Clearly, the pond is in good condition - even though it looks a wreck. It has algae. But maybe that's why it's doing so well. Who knows?

Last Sunday, I was coming home from grocery shopping and I saw a large brown bird fly across Bondarenko. It didn't move like a buzzard, and it was far too large to be a local hawk. It landed on a tree branch, so I pulled along side to get a good look at it. Lo and behold - it was an eagle! It was an immature bald eagle. They don't get their white heads until they're about seven years old. It was absoluately gorgeous. It watched me the entire time I was watching it. I'm hoping it hangs around, but it may have just been passing through. Of course, I'm not sure I'd want my wild bunnies to become lunch.


One of my bay trees has gone into profuse bloom. I've never seen so many flowers on a single tree like this. And this is just the top couple of feet. The whole tree is like this. All I can figure is the heat (it was 106 F yesterday with 5% humidity) is making the trees do weird things.



Here's our veggie patch. The tomatoes are close to four feet tall now and in full flower. The potatoes are starting to die back. They never flowered, but they have produced baby potatoes. I dug one up, boiled it, and gave it a taste. Initially, it tasted delicious! But then it left a metalic after taste that was difficult to get rid of. I don't know if that's because it wasn't mature, or if it's because I grew these potatoes from sprouted store potaotes - something recommended against. Come December, I'm going to plant a proper row of potatoes (December is the preferred Florida planting month) to see what I get. It's been fun seeing what happens with this batch.


This is the blossom from one of the onion plants. It's not quite open yet. It's been taking its sweet time. The bloom started nearly two weeks ago. The stalk is close to two feet tall. When the flower opens, it should look like a big fuzz ball.



This is the first, and right now only, tomato growing on the plants. If all the flowers manage to produce a fruit, we're going to be swimming in cherry tomatoes!


Three of the five corn stalks are starting to bloom!



The problem is, the corn is only about a foot tall! The area clearly doesn't get enough sun, so the stalks are very, very short. I honestly don't know if they'll be able to produce a fully-formed ear. Guess I'll find out. Meanwhile, I have three more plants I've started indoors. I'm going to grow them in bags near the other veggies in the median. It gets sun all day there. I also have pumpkins, cucumbers, and canteloupe started inside.



Finally, the most exciting news. Monarch butterflies are back! I have not seen a Monarch, which is hands down my favorite butterfly, since I was about 12 years old. I saw a couple of them on Trawick last week. This one swooped into the front garden yesterday. I was so excited, I ran out with the camera and took a slew of photos. Unfortunately, because I had to use extreme zoom, the photos did not come out as nicely as I hoped. I just hope this is a sign of more to come. I would love to see Monarchs all over the place again. They're simply beautiful.

Plot complete

We put the marker stone on Copen's grave yesterday. I made a stepping stone, which Steve then affixed to a larger flagstone. My original marker idea included a laminated photo, but Steve noted that a photo will fade in the sun. So rather than put the photo in the stone face, we have it hanging over it. This way, when the photo fades, I can easily replace it with a fresh one.

The stone didn't come out as well as I visualized, but that's always the case with me and crafts. My brain and hands don't work in sync. But it was made with love and I'm glad we honored Copen's memory with something more than a wooden cross stuck over her grave site.

We have chicks!

Today was the day. The chicks were due to arrive by noon. I got up early and good thing, too, because Ted from the post office called at 7:10 a.m. My chicks were there and ready to come home! I pulled on my shoes and rushed out to the Jeep. I said a few prayers enroute asking that I find ten healthy chicks in the package and no sickly or dead babies. I'm still grieving Copen. I couldn't handle another loss.

After what felt like an eternity, I arrived at the post office. As I waited for who I presume was Ted to get the package, I chatted with the cleaning lady. We were both happy we got a good soaking rain yesterday, but agreed we could have done without the lightening and power outtages. I could hear the chicks peeping long before Ted returned. They were not happy about being jostled!

Out at the Jeep, I tried to cut open the box. But I had no scissors or knife and the box was sealed with a strap. It took a lot of doing, but I managed to saw through it with my key. The chicks didn't like that, either. The noise scared them, but if I shushed them and spoke in a lilting tone, they calmed down. After another eternity, I opened the box and peered in at ten plump chicks! I thanked God, tickled a couple of them, and then closed the box back up for the ride home.

Once home, I provided fresh water and flicked on the brooder's red bulb. Then I opened the box. The chicks all looked up at me, peeping away. I picked up the box to move it to the floor and one of the Rhode Island Red pecked at my thumb. It didn't hurt and I thought it was rather funny. Was I a threat or food? I had read it's important to introduce the chicks to the water source by dipping their beaks in the water when you first put them in the brooder. So one-by-one I did just that. They didn't like me doing that and put up quite a fight.

Once in the brooder, the chicks began running around. I had sprinkled some food on the floor for them to peck and they immediately got to work. As I slowly added chicks to the brooder, one of the Buff Orpingtons kept flying to the lip of the box. I guess it was more of a really good jump, but every minute or so, there it was perched on the edge and peeping happily. I can't help but wonder if that was the cockeral. It seems like something a baby rooster would do.

After they were all in the brooder, I lay on the floor and watched them for over an hour! They are fascinating little things. They suffered no ill effects from their long journey from Connecticut (I have New England birds!) I can see the beginnings of different personalities, too. It's funny watching them drink and eat. I'm using Valencia's waterer, because the chick one I bought wasn't very good. I put flat glass beads in the dish so the water isn't too deep (chicks have a tendency to get in the water and will drown). So the birds will walk all over the glass beads when they drink. They're so small, they fit inside their chick feeder. So all you see are fuzzy little rumps sticking out of the holes as they chow down. Of course, all the eating and drinking makes them litle poop machines! I've had to put fresh paper towels down three times already!

Here are some photos I've taken of the new additions. I have a light over the brooder to keep them warm and the bulb is red to keep them calm. So most of the pics either have a red hue or look a bit odd from me fiddling with them trying to get rid of it. Sorry 'bout that.

Here are the chicks in their shipping box. The green stain on the hay is a special gel given them for the journey. Typically, chicks are shipped in quantities of at least 15. I only ordered 10, so they were given a special heat pack and this nutritional gel to help them make the trip. It clearly worked. The babies are as healthy and vigorous as can be! The yellow ones are Buff Orpingtons (they're English). The mottled one buried to the left of the yellows in the corner is Pascua, she's an Easter Egger, which is a variety of an Araucana and/or Ameraucana, which orginated in Chile. The four red ones on the right are Rhode Island Reds. One of the Buff Orpingtons is a boy. All the rest of the chicks are pullets, or girls.

Here are just the Buff Orpingtons and Pascua. I can already see a pecking order being established, with lille Pascua near the bottom. She's constantly being stomped or pecked.

Valencia was very intrigued by all the peeping. She cautiously gave a sniff. I've seen her go up to the brooder about three other times. She just looks inside, gives it a sniff, and then walks off looking a tad annoyed. The lid is locked, so she can't get to them if she tried, but I keep a close eye on them all the same.


The watering hole.


They keep falling asleep standing up, which doesn't work that well. The other chicks keep running around and end up knocking the dozing birds down. I'm not sure why they're doing that.

Shrinking Steve

So Steve blew through the 90-pound mark late last week. He's now down 93 pounds (6 stone 9). I worried that that was too much weight too quickly (five pounds in less than a week). I've noticed Steve's eating habits changing the last couple of weeks. When he started running more, the weight naturally came off quicker. Prompted by the positive results, Steve started really watching what he ate. We did a review and discovered Steve was not taking in many carbs. He was accidentally doing an Atkins! So he's making an effort to go back to eating sensibly, but not overdoing it to curb the rapid weight loss.

We had some outdoor chores to do Sunday. Steve has specific work clothes he wears outside. He's been wearing sweats, but opted to put on trousers this time. He was quite surprised when he put them on. I snapped a photo. Bear in mind, he's holding these pants up at his natural waist. He, like most guys I know, wears his pants below his waist. This pair would have been worn beneath Steve's tummy. So bear that in mind when you look at the photo.

Oh, and the do rag is a recent addition to his work attire. The lining on his hat went, so he wears the rag now. He just needs some tattoos and he's all set!

Life goes on

Copen's death still hangs heavily over the day. I've never mourned a pet's passing as I have hers. Things feel out of balance. I keep looking for her, expecting to see her sprawled in front of the sliding glass door. The sudden realization that I'm never going to see her again remains a painful jolt. That goofy, lovable, softy of a fat calico got under my skin and into my heart. I miss her very much.

But life goes on. It has to. So this blog is to share some good things. First, today is our wedding anniversary. Nine years ago today, Steve and I were married in the Annapolis, Maryland, courthouse. Around this time, we had been married for a couple of hours and were somewhere along Maryland's eastern shore. Nine years. It seems both forever ago and just yesterday.

Of course, Steve is not the man he was then. He's a lot smaller. As of this writing, Steve's lost a total of 87 pounds. That's 6 st 3 for some of you. He fit briefly in a size 34 trouser a couple of weeks ago (a size he's not seen since he was a teen), but he's already getting closer to a 33. Just how slim he's become was quite apparent this past weekend. Our friends, Alicia and Jonathon, got married, and we were both in the wedding party. Here are a couple of photos of Steve in his tux. I seem to have a rather dreamy husband.

Tragic loss

It's with a very heavy heart and a lot of tears that I write this. This morning, just after 7 o'clock, our beloved Copen was killed. She was in the back yard, probably enjoying the morning sun as she waited for breakfast, when she was brutally attacked by a neighborhood dog. I heard the barking and thought the next-door neighbor's puppy had gotten loose and was aggravating Copen. As I rushed to the back door in my robe, I instead saw a large, brown dog attacking Copen. I yelled. The dog ran. Copen looked feebly at me as I ran up to her. She was gone not long afterward. Steve came home when I gave him the news. He dug her a nice, deep grave, saying it was the least she deserved. We both stroked her one last time and laid her to rest with the cat treats she loved and her favorite toy. We'll put a proper marker stone in place this coming weekend.

It's been five hours now and I'm still a mess. Steve's gone back to work, but he's broken up about it, too. I try to content myself knowing she was really happy outside. She was more active and spirited out there than she had been inside. But I know she was lonely, too. And I regret so much not spending more time with her. But it's so easy to get caught up with chores and projects. I spent time with her every day, but I should have spent more. That's all she wanted.

I had Copen from the day she was born. We hadn't planned to keep her, but we couldn't find a good home, so she stayed in ours. She was a big, fat softy. She was also temperamental. If she was upset about something, she'd let you know by peeing somewhere. That's why she ended up outside.

But she was really happy out there. So I don't regret that at all. I just regret that she was attacked by some asshole's dog. I regret that she died in the brief span of time I ran back in the house to get the phone. I regret that I didn't pet her when I found her, because I was worried she'd be in so much pain. She deserved so much better than that.

And all I want now is for that dog to show up on my property just one more time . . .

Steve just came back home. He couldn't go back to work.