chickens · folklore · Ramblings

moon melancholy * aquarius season

 

A cold wind is blowing.

The treetops are swaying and my breath drifts off in white whispers.

The brown and gray landscaping is starting to take a toll on me.

And then that moon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An offering of milk to Brigid, in hopes that she will bless my wildflower garden.

 

Mad as a wet hen. This is Hocus.
Dottie – with a feather she pulled out of Pocus for getting too close.  Pocus is the twin sister of Hocus in the above photo.
This is Phyllis Diller she is a Buff Orpington and a Cream Legbar cross.

 

This is Ziggy a Cream Legbar – who probably laid the egg that hatched Phyllis, but Phyllis was raised by Dottie.

Did y’all get all of that?

Left to right,  Phyllis, Dickory and Hickory, are hatch mates – born in September.  The boys are twice the size of Phyllis.

Hickory is bigger than Dickory.  Dickory is darker, and his cock-a-doodle-doo works better.

 

 

 

No. Never. Ever.  In my wildest thoughts did I think I should take Papaya onto an airplane – just sayin.

Mr. Cottage said to Patty “come here and talk about world peace with me.”   Patty said “ok.”

 

“What? No Peas?  I’m outta here!”  She thought he said whirled peas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No, this shredded chicken is not one of ours.

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, yes, I do still have Christmas wreaths on my (dirty) window.

A scared young hunting dog showed up on our property recently.  This sort of thing happens all the time.  Normally I nicely but firmly chase them away, out of fear that they will kill or harm our animals.

This one was different.

Sometimes you can just read them; see it in their eyes.  They mean no harm.

I dashed off to get her some food and water while Mr. Cottage called the number on her tags.

She was reunited with her owner.

  I often have mixed feelings about these reunions, when I see the condition these dogs are in.  I just want to save them from their hard life and not send them back to their owner.

 This one was in much better shape than most.  Mr. Cottage assured me her owner was kind and gentle with her when he picked her up.  He told Mr. Cottage that she was gun shy and no good as a hunting dog; that day had been her last chance to prove herself.  He said he had offers from folks willing to take her as a pet and that he figured he would go that route.

Thank goodness I wasn’t privy to this conversation or I would be introducing you all to my newest baby.

 I’m such a sucker.

The weekend was fairly mild, by Sunday much needed rain arrived.  Monday was wet and dreary.  Monday night the temperatures started dropping and a sheet of ice coated the porch steps Tuesday morning.  I know this because I almost went flying.

I’ve sat by the dirty windows drinking tea and lazing in the sunlight streaming in and taking photos of the lovely little birdies.  Too lazy to clean those windows.

I made chicken tortilla soup this week.  It was rather tasty.

No spectacular blue blood moon shots for me.  Our location did not provide for viewing.  We did have spectacular pink sunrise sky in the morning and that evening, but I didn’t even go out with the camera.  The sunrise photos I took from inside the house, again through that dirty window.

This whole blue, blood moon thing has me all out of sorts.  I’ve felt this melancholy coming on and it seems to be lingering.  Have you noticed it too?

To honor Imbolc and St. Brigid an offering of milk and burning candles for Candlemas.

  Carrying a saucer of milk out to the North 40 in bitter cold temperatures and howling winds with at least 70 chickens hot on my feet and one dog ready to drink it, no easy feat.  So please Brigid, bless my wildflower garden with fertility.  Thank you.

 

Just like that, it is February.

Aquarius Season.

A season to celebrate what makes you unique.  Wave your own freak flag, follow your own path.  Listen to your truth and your heart.

Just some thoughts in my head.

Aquarius January 20-February 18th

Birth Stone: Amethyst

Birth Flowers: Violet and Primrose

It is my birth month.

The village market sells old-fashioned African Violets and Primroses too.  Perhaps I’ll treat myself, to a few.

Until next time.

 

 

 

16 thoughts on “moon melancholy * aquarius season

  1. Happy birthday! My hubby shares this month with you. Thank you for the pictures of the hen in the house! And PLEASE be careful on ice!! Goodness-we want you to not be hobbling around trying to take care of your family.
    Please tell Dottie for me that she is a bad girl for picking a feather! She and my Titus would get along famously-both are bully fowl!

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    1. Wishing a happy one to mr. smith. Have special plans? That’s Miss Daisy in the house. She decided last week she wanted to be a house chicken. Kind of odd she used to come in all the time and then stopped and then started up again. Not sure what that’s all about. Bully fowl cracks me up. There are constant squabbles with girls nothing too serious really I think considering how many they all get along so well. Certain ones are buddies for sure. Hello to Titus. Xo Kim

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  2. I am having a serious case of chicken (and peacock) envy… and now I know where ‘mad as a wet hen’ came from : ) Hocus needs a Hollywood agent. (I didn’t see Pocus’ face, but I think they could be signed as a couple : ) Your photos are wonderful… the interplay of dark and light is the emotional journey of life. Moody, even dark, light and bright, humor and reflection– you capture it all so perfectly. And I just adore your gorgeous menagerie…and Happy Birthday, Kim!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Kimmie — You know I wave my own freak flag. Just yesterday, I drove by the house with a turkey and lots of chickens in the front yard. Immediately, I began my chicken impression. I made it all the way to the stop sign before I stopped yodeling. Loved your shots of the pine cone and Hocus. Or was it Pocus? Happy birthday!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This looks like a fun blog and I just clicked “Follow” to come aboard and join this party.
    Perhaps it will take me out of these Winter Doldrums from a too long, too snowy Winter. P.S. – thanks for enlightening me on what “as mad as a wet hen” looks like! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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