Eggcellent!

The Girls have been very productive. They've been plopping out four to six eggs per day. My egg basket (Christmas gift from The Man) has been in continuous use.

White eggs from Sweetness and Baby (Red Leghorns), pinkish-brown eggs from Tandy and Brandy (Buff Orpingtons), and brown eggs from Mrs Bond (Plymouth Rock) and Sophia (Speckled Sussex).

Yes, even Sophia, (aka "The Hag", "Chicken Soup", "Henny Penny", and a few unmentionable names) has been putting out her fair share.

Sophia's Inspection

Fruits of our Labor

But, as they say, not all eggs are created equal but they are all equally delicious.

Food Fight

This is the time of year to be seeing migratory birds on their way back home. I get a thrill when I see the first rusty red hummingbird (perhaps an Allen's or Rufous Hummingbird?).

We don't see it very often or for very long: maybe only a day or so, for just a few hours.

Sadly, our resident hummingbirds don't share my enthusiasm.

Chickens and Duhks

Birds of a feather really do flock together. Yesterday, the ladies were buddying up with their same-colored gal pal. (Note that tint of green -- little sprouts coming up after the sprinkles of rain.)

Last night, The Man and I drove south for a concert at the Clark Center for the Performing Arts.  Lucky me, this is the second time I've won tickets from the hospital -- community sponsors of the Clark Center. To make it even better, Susan, a work friend, also won tickets and we sat next to each other.

The Duhks (pronounced like "ducks"), a Canadian folk rock band, was a pleasant surprise of versatility: appalachian, Americana, cajun, fiddling and french songs, gospel, audience-participation hambone (slap, slap, clap) and let's not forget the rockin' banjo. It was fun and it looked like the band enjoyed themselves almost as much as we did.

The Duhks   Clark Center for the Performing Arts   2/15/14

Out and About the Back Roads of SLO

Today was a beautiful day to run an errand. On the way home The Man drove through scenic Corbett Canyon and the Edna Valley, San Luis Obispo wine country. I forgot my camera but my iPhone 5c was up to the task of taking pretty good pics from a moving vehicle.

Home Delivery

We're hoping the Pineapple Express will show up soon. I'm talking about the rain not the Pineapple Express FoCo mobile eatery. Which, by the way, is The Man's nephew's very popular food truck in Colorado. Chris serves up Hawaiian-style food to the lucky locals of Fort Collins. The menu looks so onolicious: kalua pork sliders, spam musubi, fried rice balls . . . sorry, I got a little distracted.

Anyway, I was talking about the subtropical jet stream drenching Northern California. Right now. As we speak. And those lucky locals are getting their much needed rain.

Unfortunately for us the Pineapple Express is not showing up at our door. I watched the Doppler weather radar with anticipation yesterday as the huge storm system made it's way into Northern California. A large band of color - green (rain) and blue (snow) - made it's way slowly south. Our TV meteorologist was wrong in his prediction. Heavy rain was on it's way.

I went outside to take care of the animals and complete my chores early. I was ready.

And then the river of rain stopped. It banked itself north on the shores of Monterey County, a mere 150 miles or so. Just a few tiny patches of green escaped south but no more. We were treated to overcast skies but not a drop of rain. Our high pressure system is doing a good job of keeping much needed rain away from our county.

Needless to say I was disappointed. I was eager for some home delivery but the rain is still not showing up.

VORB

This past Sunday was a spectacular day: it rained. The rain started mid-morning just as I was leaving to go to work for a few hours. It was raining hard enough to use my windshield wipers as I drove south.  (My co-worker friend asked me to cover her Call while she practiced outrigger paddling, Hawaiian-style, in Morro Bay. They got rained out before she was able to get in the water but practiced "dry-paddling".)

Four hours later with a super-sized Ben Franklin sandwich in hand I returned home to feed The Man, The Boy, and myself. When I walked in the kitchen there was a familiar-looking dish in the dish drainer. You know that feeling you get when you recognize something but also know it's out of place? Well, after a few seconds my brain did a finger-snap and I said, quite loudly, "Why is Mele's dog bowl in my dish drainer?"

I mean, the dog eats in the garage. The bowl is on the ground. We don't clean her bowl, she licks it clean herself. So why is it in my kitchen and in my dish drainer? Yuck!

The Man explained that he found Z. trying to put it in the dishwasher. When asked, Z said I had asked him to clean it before I left. Well, The Man didn't want to mix the dog bowl with our dishes so he instead hand-washed it in my sink and then put it in the drainer to air dry. Yuck, again!

What I had asked The Boy to do before I left was to rinse the (human) dishes that were in the sink and then put them in the dishwasher. No mention of a dog dish nor did I point or look at the dog dish while I gave him the chore. Though, I have to admit we were standing in the garage.

The next time I give a chore to Z. I will have to do a "VORB", Verbal Order Read Back, it's what we do at the hospital when taking MD orders; the order is repeated back verbatim. No confusion. No mixups. No dog dishes in the drainer.

Spotlessly clean Soufflé Mele's dog bowl