What If I'd Made the OTHER Decision?

     I saw this video on Facebook, and it reminded me of a story I've been wanting to share for a long time.  Since this week is Right to Life Week, it's an appropriate time.  TAKE THE TIME to go to this video; it is beautiful.  The video is not embedded like YouTube videos are;  so you must go through the link to the church that posted it... It is well worth the extra step.
  

And, now, my story:  I started babysitting at a very early age - 11 years old.  I kept babysitting for that same family, and, by the time I graduated from high school, they had five children, the youngest being 5 years old.  I knew from that wonderful big family that I wanted to marry and have a bunch of children. But, when I was 19 or 20 years old - I can't remember exactly - I had an emergency surgery for a ruptured ovarian cyst.  They had to take the ovary and the tube as well as the cyst.  The surgeon told me that the other ovary and tube were hopelessly twisted, and that I would never have children.
 

       Over the years I told myself  that it was "for the best".  I can remember telling that to girlfriends, saying such things as, "Oh, well,  I guess I never REALLY wanted kids anyway."  (I realize now that those friends certainly didn't believe me when I said such things... Anyone who remotely knows me knows that I have a soft heart for baby critters of various sorts.  It was a coping mechanism. Denial, pure and simple.) I concentrated my energy toward my work and hobbies.  I think I tried 'most every hobby there ever was.  I made candles, I sewed, I did stained glass, I painted, I did macrame, knitting, crocheting, cross stitch, embroidery, cake decorating.  I played piano and guitar, and sang for weddings, church services, funerals... well, you get the idea... I stayed busy.   I went  out and "partied" occasionally, but it was never really my favorite thing... I always enjoyed decorating my various houses and apartments.  I always enjoyed cooking and baking and "keeping house", even though I lived alone all those years.



     About thirty-four years ago I was living in San Francisco.  I had a very good job working as an internal auditor for Macy's of California. While working there, I met a gorgeous man.  He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was also very funny, very charming, sang like an angel.  I had an affair with him.  It's not my proudest moment, but that's what happened. He was irresistible. (Unfortunately I found out later that he was irresistible to other gals as well... but, I digress.)
 



       I got a really bad cold.  The bronchitis kind, where you cough and gag and feel like death.  I went to my HMO's hospital to get checked out and see if I needed antibiotics or something... A couple of miraculous things happened with that medical visit.  #1:  I had never used my HMO before, so they did a standard  set of tests  - a patient baseline should I ever return.  This baseline included several blood  and urine tests.  We'll get back to that in a minute.  #2:  The doctor prescribed an antibiotic, which I took.  And a cough medicine, which - for some reason - I just didn't feel right taking.  (Yes, I had that terrible cough, but, somehow, something told me NOT to take that cough syrup!)


      A couple days later, I answered my phone at work.  It was someone from the hospital:  "Congratulations... We just wanted to let you know that your pregnancy test came back positive.  We have set you up with an Obstetrician for such and such date.  And, the doctor wants you to stop taking the cough syrup because it has codeine in it and it could hurt the baby."
  

And the earth stood still.  Oh, my gosh.  There I was at work.  Nobody to tell this shocking but wonderful but terrible news to.  I don't know how I made it through the rest of the workday,  but I did.  I don't remember who I told first... maybe my brother and sister-in-law, who also lived in San Fransisco at the time.  I know I told one friend at work.  Her name was Margaret-Ann.  The moment she heard my news, she said, "Whatever you do, don't have an abortion.  I had one, and I've never gotten over it.  No matter what anybody tells you, it's a bad, bad thing."  I told her I  wasn't  even considering it;  I knew it wasn't the right decision for me.
  

     Of all the many people I knew, only one woman suggested that I have an abortion.  I told her it wasn't an option for me.  The baby's father didn't suggest it.  He offered to marry me, but I declined.  I knew it would be a mistake.  (By then I was aware of the other ladies who found him irresistible;  I knew I couldn't live my life with a cheater, no matter how handsome or charming.)  And so, I prepared to become a single mother.  I never doubted that I could handle it. My pregnancy was fabulous;  it was the opposite of what most women report.  I felt wonderful the whole time.  I glowed.  I had energy.  I was very, very happy - all the time.  It didn't slow me down at all - I walked, exercised, cleaned, you-name-it,  just as I always had.

       The delivery was equally as wonderful.  I did  LaMaze natural childbirth and the baby was born less than three hours after I went to the hospital.  She was born smiling and bright-eyed, looking all around the room, full of wonder at her new surroundings.  I took to motherhood like white on rice.  It was a good thing. Not necessarily an easy thing; but, a good thing.

       There were lots of tough times for me while she grew up.  I married when she was a baby, but that was a mistake.  From then on, it was just my daughter and me.  I always had a lot of energy, so it worked out pretty well.  I worked lots of hours, but had the energy to spend time with her.  We had a very interesting life.  For example, one day in the middle of August I decided we should color eggs as an art project.  We colored some great eggs that day... We took clay and made feet and noses, turning pink, blue, and green eggs into pigs, dogs, and cats.  We painted eggs to look like the globe, trying  our best to make sure that all the continents were on it.  We dunked and colored and waxed and created and laughed.  The little girl who lived next door came over,  saw what we were doing, and ran back home, shouting, "Mommy! They're coloring Easter eggs, and it's not even Easter!"
  


       Such was our life. More interesting than most people's, I think  We didn't have much money, but we lived!  I remember one time we made a meal together in which every item had to be round.  (Oddly enough, that same little girl came over and saw our odd meal... I wonder how much we warped that kid's mind?) We always had cats, and they were just as likely to walk through my kitchen with a dress or a sweatshirt on as not.  We had an imaginary TV cooking show, which I was the star of and my daughter was the director.  This went on for YEARS, and we never seemed to get tired of it. We still occasionally call each other by our "cooking show names".

          I could go on and on with stories of our life together.  It wasn't perfect;  I certainly wasn't perfect; but, it was good. My daughter is now thirty-three years old.  She is beautiful, talented, and very popular..  She is married, as she puts it, "to my handsome best friend".
     I have never regretted - not even for a second - my decision to keep the baby and to raise her myself.  Life begins at the moment of conception.  It pains me terribly to think that the world has been cheated out of the pleasure of knowing many, many wonderful children such as the one I was blessed with.  Who knows what talent, what intelligence, what love was lost through the decisions to abort babies... I don't write this to condemn those who made such a decision.  But, I do write in hopes that someone will make the right decision and NOT have an abortion.  Choose life!

     "I set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life..."  Deuteronomy 30:15

          Shalom  Y'all - Twyla
  
  

Ahh, The Peaceable Kingdom

Pretty Face

     Life is a learning experience.  And life on the farm is certainly a learning experience!  We never cease to be amazed at the occurrences here on our little homestead.
     Last weekend we moved all the baby chicks together -  3 that Pretty Face recognized as the ones she'd hatched, and the 6 that she rejected having been brought in as newcomers when a week or so old. We put all the Peeps together, thinking it would be best to combine them before they got to an age where they'd fight. (Admittedly, we don't know what that age would be, but we were basing it on the fact that the girls are acting like hens and the boys are acting like roosters.)
      So, together they went, and they did very well as one big family.  But, poor Pretty Face.  She remained in her little broody coop.  Alone.  She could see and hear her babies, but couldn't get to them.  It made me sad from the first moment. She cried and paced in her courtyard.  I was certain that she wanted to be with her babies!  Moshe kept saying, "Oh, she'll be alright."  But I just didn't think so...  More out of concern for me than Pretty Face, Moshe agreed to try putting her in with all the chicks.  It didn't work at all!  She pecked ferociously at the 6 "intruders", while happy to see her 3 chicks.  She went back to her solitary life.
     It bothered me all week.  It bothered me every time I looked out the back door, every time I went out to get in the Jeep, every time I went to get firewood, etc.  Ohhh, it bothered me.  I knew that Mamma chicken was mourning.  She paced nervously and talked incessantly.  I knew - like only another mother could - that she was missing her babies terribly. But, neither Moshe nor I could figure out what to do about it.

Peeps and the Peep hole

 

 Then, last night insomnia stuck.  I solved 2 or 3 problems during my middle-of-the-night-sleeplessness.
One of the solutions was the Pretty Face situation.  My idea was confirmed later in the morning when I spoke to my parents on the phone.  Mom grew up on a big farm with lots & lots of chickens.  When I described my idea, she said it was exactly what they used to do with the broody hens.  So, here it is:  We moved Pretty Face's broody coop adjacent to the Peeps coop, cutting a "Peep-sized" hole in the chicken wire so that the Peeps can go from cage to cage but Pretty Face has to stay in her territory. We figured Pretty Face's 3 Peeps could visit her, yet still interact with the other Peeps.  And, if the other Peeps came into hostile territory they could escape through the Peep hole. (No pun intended.)  My hope was that they could ALL learn to get along...
    

the combined coops

When the deed was done, sure enough several chicks went through into the broody coop.  Pretty Face immediately took her babies under her wing.  She started out scolding and pecking at the other Peeps, but in less than ten minutes she was accepting them all!  At one point I looked out the back door and Pretty Face had 6 chicks with her - and, only 2 were her original chicks.  Another time she was drinking simultaneously with 4 chicks, only one of which was "hers". 
     Moxie was really helpful during the transition.  While Moshe was cutting the chicken wire and moving the broody coop, he let Pretty Face walk in the back yard.  We knew she wouldn't go far... not with her babies so close by.  Moxie the Wonder Dog walked alongside Pretty Face, keeping track of her like a shepherdess with her sheep.
     And CassPurr?  He slept on the dining room chair that he has claimed as "his", totally oblivious to any and all the world's problems.  A total success story.

                 Shalom Y'all - Twyla

Update on the Peeps



Me, feeding three chicks in a saucer,  10/20/10 = 18 days ago

  
 The  peeps - that is, the six that Pretty Face refused to adopt - have graduated to a cage on the the screened-in porch. The other three remain in the little chicken condo with Pretty Face.  All the peeps are growing beautiful colorful feathers which change on a daily basis;  they are growing up!  The six that were indoors with us are still very human-friendly.  When we open the cage to give food or water, they fly out and onto our arms and shoulders.  Yesterday, we had out of town visitors who got to witness them doing just that!  It was very humorous;  they ALL flew onto Moshe... He was covered with little chickens.
     A couple weeks ago three chicks could stand on one saucer and eat their mash (as per photo to left).  Today, one chick would be too much for a saucer.

      And, so it goes.  The cycle of life. Fast.  Way too fast for lil' ol' me!  Before ya' know it, they will be out in the new chicken coop, providing us with more eggs and more peeps.  I only hope that they continue to enjoy our company the way they do now.
     Shalom, y'all -     Twyla
   

The Funny Farm Gazette

CassPurr  and  Sophia

  I didn't blog yesterday.  I couldn't blog yesterday. Yesterday was one of those "Funny Farm" days...

     You see, the day before I had thoroughly cleaned the house. Everything except our office was in order, neat, clean, pretty.  (The office is another story for another day.)  All the floors, especially, were just swept, mopped, and vacuumed.  The only chore left to do was laundry... a piece of cake, right?
     So, once breakfast was over, my plan was to start the laundry and to work on some little decorating touches in the bathrooms, maybe hang a picture or two in the living room, kind of putter around between loads of laundry...
     Then, Moshe said he was going to re-vent the clothes dryer so that the heat would return back into the house during the winter. Just a little project, right?  I postponed starting the laundry because he had to move the dryer out from the wall and remove the canned goods from their corner so that he could work in the little laundry room.  We found new "homes" for the canned stuff and some of the other things that had been stacked  in the tiny little laundry room. Anything that couldn't readily be put somewhere logical got piled either on the screened-in porch or in the guest room.
     In order to redirect the dryer vent into the house, Moshe had to cut through the wall, into one of the hall closets, then put the vent hose in and secure it. Simple, right?  Except that this particular hall closet was piled with stuff floor-to-ceiling.  It had been a catch-all closet. A giant junk drawer. A hiding place for whatever it would hold.  Ugh.  We moved all that stuff into the guest room. 

    
     Moshe, of course, had to go out to the shed and get his power drill, etc.  Every move Moshe makes, his shadow - Moxie - follows.  So, the two of them made a few trips back and forth to the shed. (Oh, did I mention it had rained the night before?)  Leaves, twigs and muddy dogprints now decorated my floors...
     Around noon, Moshe realized he would need to buy a part in order to finish the dryer vent project. So, I gave him a small grocery list as well, and off he went to town.  Still in my PJ's, I debated whether to get right in the shower or clean up a few things first.  I decided to clean house for a while.  Someone knocked on the door. Mortified, I answered it.  It was a fellow looking for Moshe, and he said he would try to get him on his cell phone. Okay, enough humiliation for one day -  I went immediately to the shower, got dressed, put on makeup, etc.
     Moshe returned just as I was finishing the dishes. Things were still chaotic, but I was beginning to think I would get things straightened up. CassPurr, who had been sleeping at the foot of our bed all day, got up, ate some canned catfood,  used the litter box, then went back to our bed and threw up on one of my antique quilts.  Deep sigh. Another load of laundry added to the collection, which, by the way, had still not been started.

 
       But, I must also back up and remind the reader that we have six baby chicks in a big birdcage on the work table in our office.  These babies talk.  Alot. They have different sounds.  There's the morning singing while they are eating.  There's the conversational sound, which is a bit louder.  And then there's the distress call, which is ear-piercing.  Like all babies, the peeps need food, water, warmth, touch and talk.  About once an hour, I take a break from whatever I'm doing and check on the peeps.  I make sure they have all these things. This involves sitting down, holding two or three chicks in my lap for a few minutes to quiet them down.  I try to remember which ones I had last time and rotate shifts so that they all get some personal attention.  Moshe helps alot with this, too.  Often, we both are sitting at our desks, each holding three peeps. We bring out their little food bowls so that they can eat in our laps. The chicks scatter their mash everywhere.  This is minor compared to the fact that baby chicks poop almost constantly. Oh, what-the-heck.  At this point, a few more tee-shirts, added to the laundry pile won't make much difference, will it?
    The dryer project DID get finished!  It was about 3 in the afternoon.  I had washed one load of laundry in anticipation of the dryer being usable.  So, I started drying that load and washing another.  By now, it was 76 degrees outside.  Quickly, it became  80-something degrees inside. Ugh.  Reminder: until it gets really cold out, use dryer only in early morning to prevent overheating of house.
  

      Sometimes Moshe can be a little absent-minded... At one point he was the one who put the chicks back in the cage after a chick-sitting episode... About half-an-hour later, I was in the kitchen putting together the lasagna for supper.  I was busy, but realized that the peeps' noise was getting louder, and louder, and LOUDER.  I looked up from my work, and all the peeps were marching down the hall towards the kitchen!
The office and hallway  are carpeted. ( Did I mention that peeps poop almost constantly?)  I gathered them up and put them back in their cage.  And I closed the door to the cage - this was the step poor Moshe had omitted.
     Okay, so it wasn't exactly a "Better Homes & Gardens" day.  Maybe I need to start a new magazine.  How 'bout  "The Funny Farm Gazette"???

What A Day!!!



      This is one of those chain of events wherein nothing would've been the same if the timing had been a little different...
     We took a truckload of stuff from the shed to donate to the local Humane Society.  Literally a truckload.
I had argued with myself many times  about whether to donate the stuff or try to sell it; it was good stuff!
Finally, this morning I told Moshe that the right thing to do was donate it all so that someone else could be blessed... So, we loaded it all up before lunch and took it into town right after eating.
     When we got there, I  went inside the Humane Society Thrift store so that I could get a receipt for the donations. And who do I see but our neighbor Mary from down the road! (We only have one real neighbor on our road.  There are five houses, but the rest of them are vacation cabins.  Mary and her family and Moshe and I are the only fulltime people on our road.)
      Well, Mary immediately asked me if we wanted seven baby chicks. I went and got Moshe, and he said, "Yes."  So, about an hour later, Mary brought us the babies.  They are the same size as our chicks - a couple weeks old.  They are tame like ours, having been held and petted since "birth".  Tonight, after dark, Moshe will put the new babies in with Pretty Face and her two chicks.  Won't THAT be a surprise when she wakes up and has all those babies!!!
     So, Mary stayed and visited with me awhile after we got the chicks settled in the temporary cage, with chicken mash, water, etc.  We were talking about our various pets, and I mentioned that I had given up on CassPurr - figured he must be dead or gone in someone's car and ended up in Florida or something.  Mary said, "No. I just saw him at Mr Smith's house a week ago."  To which I said, "Where is Mr Smith's house?"  And Mary replied, "Right next door to you."
     I knew that the man nextdoor had been up here for a week or so.  I also knew he had gone back to his regular home a couple days ago... So, Mary, Moshe and I, plus various and sundry cats and dogs all walked through the woods over to the Smith cabin.  I spotted Cassie first; he was resting on an old cushion up near the woodpile in the corner of Mr Smith's yard.  I called him.  He talked to me.  He came up to me and I picked him up.  We both purred at each other.  Just like the old days.

CassPurr on the front porch

    
So I carried him back through the woods.  Home again, home again, jiggity jig.  I opened a can of his food, and, he is a happy, happy boy.  He has since inspected the entire house, and, apparently, it meets his approval.  Last I looked, CassPurr was sleeping with the teddy bears on the guestroom bed , just as if he'd never been gone.
     The baby chicks are in their temporary cage on the counter in one of the bathrooms - with a heater going in the room to keep them warm.  Cassie is contentedly sleeping.  Moshe is reorganizing the shed now that all that stuff is gone.  I'm cooking supper and typing this blog.  And poor Moxie is beside herself with all the activity;  she really wants to be with the new chicks, and she really wants to be with Moshe, and she really smells the supper cooking, so wants to be with me.  She hasn't even noticed CassPurr yet...

     Like I said, "What a day!"
    
                Shalom y'all - twyla

Me, Moxie, and Jesus (to the rescue)

Moxie visiting with Miss Congeniality..

     Yesterday upon returning from grocery shopping in town, I stopped at the end of the driveway to get the mail.  I was surprised - no, astounded - no, mortified -  to see that Pretty Face, our Mamma hen, was outside her little broody coop.  She had somehow burrowed under the "courtyard" fencing, and was frantically trying to figure out how to get back to her chicks... She was clucking in a distressful way, and the peeps were peeping loudly.
     Meanwhile, having heard the sound of my Jeep, down the winding driveway comes Moxie the Wonder Dog.  We have been showing Moxie all the chickens, including the babies, every day, and explaining to her that she is their guardian... giving her instructions not to hurt them, not to bite at them, not to pick them up, etc. She is a very good dog, and she really likes the chickens. Even when they peck her nose, she just keeps on wagging that ol' tailbone!  We had, just that morning, put Moxie into one of the chicken coops with the chickens... (She was much more scared  than the chickens were.) She, of course, proved harmless to the chickens. She often sticks her head into the coops when I am collecting eggs and petting the chickens.
     Nevertheless, my heart went pitter-patter at the sight of Moxie bounding down the driveway, with me trying to soothe Pretty Face enough to pick her up and return her to her babies.   ( Oh, my, what if ??? )
My fears were completely ungrounded.  When Moxie got near me, she saw Pretty Face and knew that things weren't quite right.  She went around the pen and herded Pretty Face towards me.  Pretty Face puffed up (a  fear/protective action much like a cat puffing up for a fight), but easily allowed me to pick her up and put her back in the broody coop.  Her babies ran to her, and she covered them and comforted them. I was amazed at the string of events.  It was as if  Moxie and I were meant to rescue Pretty Face - all for the sake of the baby chicks.
     A couple thousand years ago, Jesus, up high on one of the mountains surrounding Jerusalem, looked down on His beloved city and wept.  He cried out, "Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem... How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a mother hen gathers her chickens under her wings, and you would not!."  When you look up the word "wept" or "cried" in the Aramaic or Greek translations, it translates "wailed".  Jesus didn't just shed a quiet tear over His people; He wailed loudly.  Love is like that. Protective. Comforting. Of us. His baby chicks.
                                   Shalom, Y'all - Twyla

Peep and Bo-Peep

Peep, born a few hours after Bo-Peep

Bo-Peep, the firstborn

Well, the photographer is back from his trip to Atlanta, so we have a few  pictures of the new babies, Peep and Bo-Peep. (Two chicks so far... we will wait on the other egg a couple more days.)  We are amazed at how tiny and perfect these chicks are.  They are bright-eyed and alert and demonstrating "chicken behavior". So cute! Walking and scratching the straw, cuddling up with their proud Mommy.  Pretty Face is, indeed, very proud of her young 'uns... But, she knows and trusts
 us, so she allows
 us to hold her babies.
 Even the dog stuck
 her head in the little
 broody coop and
Pretty Face was
casual about it.
 We are blessed.

One of the babies' eggshells

     Can you imagine what it must be like to peck your way out of an eggshell?  Let me tell you, this thing is tough!  I tried to separate the membrane lining from the outer eggshell, and couldn't do it! I read somewhere that part of the chicks'  development depends on their pecking out of the shell.  If you try to "help" the process, the chick will die.  It's sort of like the surfactant that premature babies lack because it develops in the last stages of pregnancy.  Preemies often succumb to respiratory failure due to the lack of surfactant. And so it is with baby chicks; they need their full time to develop.  The way God creates things is so miraculous, isn't it?

The proud Mama with her babies...

Shalom  y'all

     Twyla

WOW! WOW!! WOW!!!

     A very brief note today... Moshe had to go into Atlanta today to help a friend move.  So, I have "chicken duty".  I went out this morning, threw them some corn, checked their water, gathered eggs. 
     Then, I went to check on Pretty Face.  I moved her just a little bit, and spied a broken egg shell.  So, I moved her a little bit more, and, YES, we have at least one baby chick!  It is tiny and yellow and makes a very high-pitched little "peep".  Can't wait for Moshe to see it/them. (Don't know if there are more than one... I didn't want to disturb Pretty Face too much.)
     Isn't that exciting?
Shalom Y'all - Twyla

Update on Pretty Face

               Pretty Face is still faithfully setting on her three eggs.  (Now I wish we'd put more than three under her... Oh, well... maybe next time.)  She is quite the broody hen, seldom leaving her eggs at all.  Occasionally we will see her out in her "courtyard", taking a drink of water or a bit of food.  Then, it's right back to her eggs.  She reminds me of the old Dr Suess book, "Horton Hatches a Who".

               When I lift the top of her little broody house, she coos like a dove. She is such a sweet little mommy. I really hope her eggs hatch so that we have the privilege of seeing her with the baby chicks. 

Grama Harper's Chicken Yard

                               
My mother grew up on a farm, and she says watching a hen with her chicks is a sweet experience.  Approximate date for hatching: Oct 9th - less than a week away!  I am looking forward to posting pics of Mommy & Babies!

Shalom Y'all - Twyla