thisendoftheswamp

I had to swing into Tractor Supply this morning to pick up bird seed – again! – and stopped to admire the baby chicks. I’d love to have a few chickens, but The Squire is, shall we say, less than enthusiastic about the idea.

While I was mentally selecting my flock a woman carrying a small child came over to the pens and stared at the peeps for a few moments, and then asked the clerk, “Are these the sort of chickens that lay eggs?”

Bless her, the clerk answered her with a straight face. “Yes, ma’am. Most all of the chickens in these pens will lay eggs.”

When I went over to the thriving metropolis of Joppatowne this afternoon there was a blaring of horns beyond anything I’d ever heard before. Everybody was rolling down car windows and craning their necks. I was wondering if the Canadian truckers had gotten as far south as Maryland.

As it turned out, the left turn signal was not working properly, and traffic was backed up over the top of the hill. While I can understand the frustration, blowing the horn won’t make the light change! Pull out of line, go through the intersection, and make a U-turn at the next break in the jersey wall, for Pete’s sake. It’s not rocket science. The guy at the front of the line wasn’t going to try to make an illegal turn, if for no other reason than he was driving a company truck.

It’s a good thing I’m perfect, isn’t it?

A friend of mine orders her meals from one of those “we ship it; you cook it” places and seems to really like it. When I am working full time, The Squire sometimes has a problem coming up with things to fix for supper. “I’m running out of ideas”, sez he.

“Welcome to my world”, I replied.

I asked my friends for recommendations about the various programs, and she recommended one of them in particular. I looked into all three, entering that we’d want vegetarian meals for two people.

Well, when somebody says $70 for three meals, I know they are not talking to me!

Back in the dark ages (I was still married to the Late and Unlamented) my dad gave me a set of three wooden cutting boards, shaped like pigs. The smallest was made of quarter inch plywood, so it didn’t have a long shelf-life. I have no idea what happened to the middle one, but the largest is still on duty in our kitchen.

The last 60 years or so have not been kind to it, although considering the hard use it’s had, I have no reason to complain. It is badly stained, and you can see daylight through the crack in the bottom.

Recently, The Squire got a piece of pine and cut out a new pig for me, but the old one is still in service, sitting beside the stove.

Yesterday, it was in the mid-50s.

We woke up to snow this morning. Not much – only a quarter inch, and it didn’t stick to the roads or walks, but good grief!