Spring Fluff Balls and Dust Clouds

It's that time of year again.

Time for lots of little fluff balls to 

be running around the farm.

These pictures were taken last year 

when we ordered 63 chicks from

a hatchery.

Most were Buff Orpingtons but we also

had 9 Black Australorp

and one freebie thrown in

by the hatchery.

HE turned out to be a silver Leghorn.

It's been a big day and everyone is a little sleepy

This year we are going to do things differently.

We have two Buff's who are 'broody'

and we are going to let them 'set'

on some eggs. 

We tried this once before but it was chilly out

and Mamma hen didn't take very good 

care of them so unfortunately 

they didn't make it. 

So when hubby get's a few minutes

from working on the bathroom renovation

we'll put these two ladies into their own

pen in the coop and see what happens.

Do you mind turning the light out!

Who'd have thought a totally black chicken

could come from this little fluff ball above.

Sleepy Time

Looking forward to seeing 

cute little fluff balls under

their Mamma's wings.

We're in the middle of a bathroom

renovation. What a mess!

This is my office/craft room!

What we thought would be a fairly

quick renovation is taking a lot longer

than first thought. 

If you've ever lived in an old house before

and tackled a renovation you know all about

walls that are not straight and hidden surprises.

Well...our project is no exception.

Here's a little peek at where we are now.

The bathroom sink/vanity is out...

and I'm getting a little tired of washing

and brushing my teeth in the kitchen sink!

Oh well...it will all be worth it in the end.

I hope you have a WONDERFUL week

and 

HAPPY SPRING!

Maura :) 

Erin Go Braugh!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I thought I'd show you my Irish Shillelagh.

I love it! 

It was given to me by my Mother's side of the family

the Collins. 

This dear old thing was approx 120 years old

when it was shown to me in the 1960's. 

What is a shillelagh some of you may ask?

The internet says...

Sticks have been used as weapons since fighting began, however the skilled use of hardwood clubs by the people of Shillelagh led to these clubs to be called Shillelagh's by Richard II in 1395. With the dispersion of these peoples through the ages the term Shillelagh spread throughout Ireland and the new world in reference to a weighted fighting stick.
When it became illegal for any Irish person to carry a weapon their Shillelagh's were often elongated to appear as a walking stick but were just as effictive  a weapon when the need arose. These irish who emigrated to America enjoyed the right there of all men to carry arms and Shillelagh's became very promenant in the faction fights in the turbulant years of the young United States. 

Because of the length of this one

it would have been a

fighting shillelagh.

Can you imagine being 

boinked on the head with that thing!

I'm afraid my poor old shillelagh

has been banged up in many moves

from Ireland to England to

Manitoba Canada

to British Columbia Canada 

and now down here

to Kansas.

If it could only talk

I bet it could tell us some

wonderful stories

of all it's travels.

These clubs and walking sticks are

still being made today even here 

in the United States.

This one was made in Ireland from a black thorn tree

but originally they were made from oak. 

The bark was left on for added toughness

and to keep them from splitting in the 

drying process they were

sometimes buried

in manure piles or smeared

 with butter and placed in the chimney

to cure. 

I hope mine was done

the latter way!

At least it doesn't stink ;)

While looking up information on

shillelaghs I see there is

a lot of conflicting ideas

on where they came from and what 

they were made from etc.

I really don't care.

All that matters to me

is that my loved ones 

cared enough for this old

piece of wood

to hand it down for over 150 years

and one day my 

children will enjoy it 

and pass it down to theirs.

Since these pictures were taken by

our chicken coop here

on the farm I figured

I would join up

with Amy at

Verde Farm 

for

I hope you'll hop on over and visit 

Amy and Richie

and all the other Farm Friends

taking part this week.

Enjoy!

Maura :)

The Month Of The Irish

my-secret-northern-Ireland.com

The Month of March

is a time of transition

as most of us switch from a long cold winter

into beautiful sunny warm spring weather.

It is a month that we look forward to seeing GREEN.

Whether we are Irish or not...it's also

a month that makes us think

of Ireland.

free-pictures-now.com

From thatched roof cottages...

Internet

...to the wonderful Irish music and dance.

free-pictures-now.com

Irish Barns.

Wonderful Irish traditional dishes 

such as the Colcannon below...

culinaryschoolrockies.com

...and Irish Stew.

recipes.com

free-pictures-now.com

Irish Soda Bread

webpages.charter.net

More Irish Cottages

tripadvisor.com

traveltips.usatoday.com

Ireland-guide.com

thetemplebarpub.com

And of course the Traditional Irish Music.

I'd LOVE to learn to play the bodhran (Irish drum)!

travelpod.com

I've been to an English Pub but not an Irish Pub.

Maybe one day ;)

posterguide.com

Irelandtravelpictures.net

thatchedcottages.co.uk

holidayhomesofireland.com

Yes this is the month of the Irish.

I hope you wear some green this week ;)

La ar doigh agat!

(Have a good day)

Maura :)

Sad News and a re-post

Mom 2009

Mom and Dad 1997

I'm sorry I haven't posted much in the last 

couple of weeks.

My Step-Mom whom I have known nearly 

all my life took sick nearly two weeks ago

and sadly she passed away last Thursday evening.

My father passed away in 2000.

Needless to say this has been a tough time

for my family and myself

and so I haven't spent much time 

on my blog. 

In view of this 

I thought I would re-post 

this entry from a year ago.

I have a few more followers since

this was posted and so I thought 

I would take this opportunity

to post it again.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend.

Maura :)

Being Found By My Sister

We meet for the first time.

My sister Janet and I Oct 91 (I'm on the right)

I was born in 1953, an only child. As I was growing up I often wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister. I envied my friends who had siblings. Life was often lonely. My parents divorced when I was 7 and my father and I moved half way across the country to live with my Grandparents. At age 11 I was told I had a half brother but I never met him untl I was 17 and we never really got to know each other very well. I married and eventually had 5 children of my own. It was wonderful to see the kids all playing together and laughing but there were also times when they were bickering that I was glad I was an only child LOL! One day in Feb 1991 my brother recieved a letter from someone in England claiming to be a relative. They didn't mention me so I thought I'd write them and tell them about our side of the family. I'm a procrastinator and never got around to writing the letter. Then in our small town local newspaper in the letters to the editor...there it was...a letter looking for me! Another 2 weeks went by and I finally sent a letter off. About two weeks later when I was laying on my daughters bed as she was doing a poster project with her friend, my son came in carrying a letter he'd just gotten from the mailbox. It was this woman writing back. She mentioned England and family dating back to the 1600's but she still doesn't say how we're related. Finally a page and a half into the letter I read...''you asked how we are related, I don't know how to tell you this but I am your sister or half sister". I sat up and looked at my little daughter who was about 8 at the time and she and her friend were looking at me with thier mouths open. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I read it again and the tears started. I had a SISTER!!!! She was born in 1945. My father had been stationed in Surrey England before D Day and during that time he had met my future uncle and he had taken my dad home with him for a good home cooked meal. He met my mum and they 'dated' for a while. The story get's fuzzy here and it seems they went their separate ways and soon after that my dad found himself in France where he was wounded. I'm not sure how long he was in France before he went back to England or how long he was in the hospital but he ended up back in Surrey. One day he said he was walking down the road and a 2 ton troup truck honked and stopped beside him. It was my mum. It turns out my mum had had a baby girl while my dad was gone and under the advice of her mother had given the baby away for adoption. My mum told my dad it wasn't his. They ended up getting married in England and moving to my fathers homeland...Canada. The rest of my mum's immediate family moved to Canada too shortly after the war. My Sister was adopted by a loving older couple who couldn't have children. At the age of 5 her 'mum' was diagnosed with cancer and passed away shortly after that. Laws in England said that since there was no mother and her father was working that my sister would have to go to foster care. She was allowed to go home one weekend every two weeks. One day when she was older and finally living at home she decided to travel and wanted to get her passport so she went looking for her birth certificate. She didn't find it but she did find one in the attic for another child with her birthdate. It was then that she realized she was adopted....she never told he 'father'. Back then there was a stigma to being adopted and she was in a way...ashamed. Her friends tried to get her to find her family but she never tried. Her husband finally got her to search but she always hit a dead end. She could find the family all the way back to the 1600's and gathered lots of information but the family disappeared 'off the face of the earth' after WWII as she said. The family had attended the same village church for 400 years so she decided to send a letter to the parish magazine. She sent it in October. In December she came home to find a large envelope from a lady in Surrey...it contained pictures of our mother and grandparents along with other family photos. My sister couldn't believe it. She sat on the kitchen floor and cried as she looked at all the pictures. Sadly she also learned that her mother and grandmother had passed away a few years earlier. Finally in the letter she read that she had a brother and a sister. They knew where the brother was and had his address but they didn't know where I was. That's when she wrote the letter. It turns out that the lady who wrote her was our mothers best friend and her mother and aunt were good friends of our grandmother! She had known about mum having a baby and it being given up for adoption and when she read my sisters letter in the parish magazine she knew it must be this child. Thank heavens my sister wrote that letter!!! In October 1991 my sister and I met for the first time. It was the most emotional day of my life and one of the happiest...second only to having each of my children. When I finally saw her come around the corner at the airport and we got to hold each other...it's a feeling that is hard to describe. I think for the first time in our lives we felt...complete. We were 'home'.