I am back in Spearfish!
When I left on August 18th, after spending over three of the best months possible living in my favorite place in the world with my grandparents, I cried for parts of the entire road trip back to Sioux Falls. I have fallen back into the step of Augie things but yesterday when I bounded up the green-carpeted stairs and hugged my grandpa, he asked if it was good to be back. It definitely is good to be back. My mom, Brytten and I are all in one place which hasn't happened since August. My grandpa then said that he loves Brytten and I. He also said we are neat. Few words could describe both Brytten and I, but neat seems like a good fit especially coming from our grandpa.
So here I sit at the kitchen table eating eggs from my grandpa's chickens and wheat toast made from homegrown wheat that was made by my grandpa spread with Grapple - grape and apple - Jelly also made by my grandpa.
Yesterday's road trip with my mom was a blast! She was a fan of the road trip cd's I had made for our journey. My blue scarf served as a cd case. When "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers came on I thought she might make fun of me for my love of S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!! But instead she sang along and admitted that she had crushes on the singers of the Bay City Rollers. Brytten and I looked them up and now we are slightly ashamed that our mom thinks they are cute. Seriously look them up!
Miss Sarajevo by U2 and Pavarotti was a hit. My mom's favorite song has always been Hotel California. Up until this summer I really didn't like The Eagles and my mom threatened disownment several times. I put several songs by Electric Light Orchestra. My mom told me that one year for Christmas she got an 8-track player and on Christmas Day my grandpa took her to buy her first 8-track and she got the ELO one.
Our road trip was wonderful but of course, I didn't get a whole lot of studying done. Oops!
Last night was one of the best nights ever and was the perfect way to spend away from Augie. I got to stop and see Brytten's dorm. Just seeing her in a dorm is a cool thing. My PA-self came out and I had to check out the building's programming initiatives and the bathroom situation. When we first got to the house I visited the ducks which are now HUGE! Even their heads are gigantic. As my grandpa and I were walking out to visit the ducks and the chickens he commented right away on how well Brytten is doing in school and in general, life.
My grandpa and grandma, Jackie and John, Brytten and her friend, Megan, and I all enjoyed pizza- 6 of them actually. But before we did the grands went to pick it up and then when they got back and saw the full driveway their natural inclination was to park right in the middle of their 1-acre backyard and walk up the deck steps to deliver the pizza. Classical grands move.
My favorite card game is Phase 10 and during every family gathering I suggest it. But last night before I could, my grandpa said that whoever suggested Phase 10 would be shot. He later took back the threat and we played with the typical tensions and uttered swear words. It was great!
Later in the night, the three of us, went downstairs and stayed up talking about life. Hearing Brytten sound like a quintessential college student is one of the best feelings. We are both on the same track in life and are able to appreciate each other so much more.
The best part of the evening was when Brytten admitted that she had always thought that antelope were also called cantaloupe. In Brytten's mind, cantaloupe is a melon fruit and a pronged mammal. It was so Brytten!
Now after a cup of coffee in my favorite Grandpa mug, we are headed out to visit Sven- Jackie's new horse.
This is possibly the best weekend ever!
Showing posts with label Chickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chickens. Show all posts
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Granddaughter of Chicken Farmers
Last week I was introduced as, "the granddaughter of the woman who volunteers at the fish hatchery who gives us two dozen eggs each Tuesday."
Practically family.
All summer I have joked about how this summer is chicken-i-fied and I have become a seasonal chicken farmer. Well, I have sunk to a new low. Today I was collecting the eggs from the chicken coop and there were 16 that had to be brought in. Obviously I couldn't carry all of those in my two hands and the idea of taking two trips didn't enter my brain. But the idea of sticking eggs in my bra did. That's exactly what I did. I had four eggs in my bra and I awkwardly crossed my arms in front of my chest while holding the other twelve eggs and did a marching-band-like stroll (heel, toe!) back to the house discreetly so that the neighbors nor my grandparents, the true chicken farmers, would know of my odd circumstances. And yet, I chose to tell the entire Internet world.
Bawk, Bawk!
Practically family.
All summer I have joked about how this summer is chicken-i-fied and I have become a seasonal chicken farmer. Well, I have sunk to a new low. Today I was collecting the eggs from the chicken coop and there were 16 that had to be brought in. Obviously I couldn't carry all of those in my two hands and the idea of taking two trips didn't enter my brain. But the idea of sticking eggs in my bra did. That's exactly what I did. I had four eggs in my bra and I awkwardly crossed my arms in front of my chest while holding the other twelve eggs and did a marching-band-like stroll (heel, toe!) back to the house discreetly so that the neighbors nor my grandparents, the true chicken farmers, would know of my odd circumstances. And yet, I chose to tell the entire Internet world.
Bawk, Bawk!
Friday, July 8, 2011
Duck, Duck... Duck, Duck... Duck, Duck, 7 DUCKS!
I purposefully didn't blog about this tragic event when it happened but on Tuesday, July 21st we lost the beloved ducks, Joey and Campbell to what we now believe was a mountain lion. It was quite sad around here but we have seven new feathered, billed, webbed members of our family.
Hours after my grandpa realized Joey and Campbell had been killed he ordered three ducks. Hours after that happened I had them named Eliza, Jane, and Sebastian. Yesterday marked the first Duck Day. My grandpa said the post office would be calling him as early as six in the morning to alert him of the duck delivery. Thus I was up at 5:30 a.m. but we didn't get word on the ducks until 8 a.m. He and I drove to the post office as soon as we got the anxiously-waited-for-phone-call. We walked into the deserted lobby and had no idea where we were supposed to pick them up until we heard muffled quacking. We were presented with a box slightly larger than a shoe box with several air holes on every side. What I still believed was the five of us, got into my car and went to get my grandpa's staple, a gas station cappuccino. On the way there he had opened a corner of the box but as I was driving I thought I was only seeing the three ducklings we had prepared for.
We got home and my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, Sam and Camille and I, all pajama-clad, gathered around the table on the deck as my grandpa opened the lid of the box. And to our surprise we saw 7, count them, 7 ducklings! July 7th (Duck Day) brought us 7 ducks! Three of the ducks are yellow but will get white feathers as they mature and the other 4 are black with yellow spots and black bills and black feet and eventually will resemble mallards. My grandma uttered her customary "Oh, Roger!" that she says every time he does something Grandpa-like. You know that part of 101 Dalmatians where the wife exclaims, "Oh, Roger!", well Brytten and I thought it was our grandma saying it to our grandpa when we were little.
With the unveiling of the surplus of ducks, Duck Day began. Sam was quite the natural with them and gingerly picked them up and lowered them beak first into a plastic cup of water for them to take a drink. 7 must be a lucky number for my grandpa because not only does he have 7 ducks that needed to be named but he has three daughters and four grandchildren so everyone got to name a duck! My mom named hers LuLu (I decided both L's should be capitalized), Jackie named hers Kiwi, Jodie named hers Cousteau, Sam named his Tobio (after a Japanese character from Astro Boy which I thought was quite clever for a six-year-old), Camille named hers Camille (now we have a little redhead girl, a chicken, and a duck all named Camille), Brytten named hers Harper, and I named mine Pomegranate.
My grandpa now has a total of 40 birds! 33 chickens and 7 ducks!
Duck Day took on a whole new meaning when I was reading the newspaper and came across an article about people helping a mother duck. Then on Twitter on of the trending topics was #replaceawordinafamousquotewithduck. One of my favorites was "Mr. Gorbachev tear down this duck."
Now all that is left to making the ducks feel absolutely at home is my grandpa and I setting out to restore the duck house that once again will be filled with joy.
On a bird-related note, one afternoon when I came in for a popsicle after freckling in the hammock I came across this scene. Earlier this year my grandpa traded out 23 of his chickens for better egg-layers. These new chickens are finally up to their laying capabilities and we are once again bringing in one to two dozen eggs a day. My grandpa brings the eggs in to the house in a green metal pail and my grandma washes them and puts them into recycled egg cartons to sell to people in Spearfish. The way in which these eggs were placed on the cupboard makes me think it was intentional by my grandpa...
Hours after my grandpa realized Joey and Campbell had been killed he ordered three ducks. Hours after that happened I had them named Eliza, Jane, and Sebastian. Yesterday marked the first Duck Day. My grandpa said the post office would be calling him as early as six in the morning to alert him of the duck delivery. Thus I was up at 5:30 a.m. but we didn't get word on the ducks until 8 a.m. He and I drove to the post office as soon as we got the anxiously-waited-for-phone-call. We walked into the deserted lobby and had no idea where we were supposed to pick them up until we heard muffled quacking. We were presented with a box slightly larger than a shoe box with several air holes on every side. What I still believed was the five of us, got into my car and went to get my grandpa's staple, a gas station cappuccino. On the way there he had opened a corner of the box but as I was driving I thought I was only seeing the three ducklings we had prepared for.
We got home and my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, Sam and Camille and I, all pajama-clad, gathered around the table on the deck as my grandpa opened the lid of the box. And to our surprise we saw 7, count them, 7 ducklings! July 7th (Duck Day) brought us 7 ducks! Three of the ducks are yellow but will get white feathers as they mature and the other 4 are black with yellow spots and black bills and black feet and eventually will resemble mallards. My grandma uttered her customary "Oh, Roger!" that she says every time he does something Grandpa-like. You know that part of 101 Dalmatians where the wife exclaims, "Oh, Roger!", well Brytten and I thought it was our grandma saying it to our grandpa when we were little.
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| Just look at that concentration! |
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Sam the Duck Whisperer |
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| This is one of my favorite pictures ever! |
My grandpa now has a total of 40 birds! 33 chickens and 7 ducks!
Duck Day took on a whole new meaning when I was reading the newspaper and came across an article about people helping a mother duck. Then on Twitter on of the trending topics was #replaceawordinafamousquotewithduck. One of my favorites was "Mr. Gorbachev tear down this duck."
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| The Rapid City Journal knew to celebrate Duck Day! |
On a bird-related note, one afternoon when I came in for a popsicle after freckling in the hammock I came across this scene. Earlier this year my grandpa traded out 23 of his chickens for better egg-layers. These new chickens are finally up to their laying capabilities and we are once again bringing in one to two dozen eggs a day. My grandpa brings the eggs in to the house in a green metal pail and my grandma washes them and puts them into recycled egg cartons to sell to people in Spearfish. The way in which these eggs were placed on the cupboard makes me think it was intentional by my grandpa...
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| A smiley face of eggs! |
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Quips from Grandpa
This morning I pulled into my aunt and uncle's driveway at 5:53 a.m. and shortly thereafter John and I left to go hiking up Old Baldy. It was a great hike! It was super muddy but luckily I am the granddaughter of Jeanne Becht because less than 12 hours later and my shoes look brand new. The woman loves doing laundry, thats for sure!
After the hike I quickly went home and got cleaned up and went to work. I was asked to attend the executive board meeting which was quite interesting and may have convinced me I need to work there for several decades but I was there until after 6 p.m. So, I didn't get a whole lot of time with The Grands. When I got home I walked out to the shop and helped my grandpa with the truck seat he is upholstering for a friend.
My grandpa tends to be a man of very few words and he is the only person in the world I could sit with for days and days and not need to say anything. However, tonight he was unusually chatty! As he was taking stitches out he kept saying, "Ooops." Then he went into describing a friend he used to fish with in St. Paul who was a surgeon and would always say that the most commonly used word in the surgery room was, "Oops."
We continued to talk about how we both have a hidden love for the good old kind of country music, particularly Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash. I also informed him that when I was little I used to think I was the only Sanna in the entire world and was rather crushed when I realized I wasn't. I used to also think that I would never meet another Roger and that my grandpa was the only one I would ever know. Also not true. One of our volunteers at the fish hatchery is named Roger (and actually knows my Roger). This new Roger and I had a lovely conversation on Sunday at the Father's Day Brunch but I may have to rename him.
When we were about to walk back to the house for supper we stopped to collect eggs. Here is a tidbit of information that I learned this week and probably never would have if I wasn't living in Spearfish for the summer. When chickens are old enough to lay eggs but not quite full-sized yet their eggs are called pullet eggs and are quite smaller than normal eggs, nearly half the size of the eggs we are used to. Like I said, I would never have learned that if I wasn't living with Roger.
After the hike I quickly went home and got cleaned up and went to work. I was asked to attend the executive board meeting which was quite interesting and may have convinced me I need to work there for several decades but I was there until after 6 p.m. So, I didn't get a whole lot of time with The Grands. When I got home I walked out to the shop and helped my grandpa with the truck seat he is upholstering for a friend.
My grandpa tends to be a man of very few words and he is the only person in the world I could sit with for days and days and not need to say anything. However, tonight he was unusually chatty! As he was taking stitches out he kept saying, "Ooops." Then he went into describing a friend he used to fish with in St. Paul who was a surgeon and would always say that the most commonly used word in the surgery room was, "Oops."
We continued to talk about how we both have a hidden love for the good old kind of country music, particularly Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash. I also informed him that when I was little I used to think I was the only Sanna in the entire world and was rather crushed when I realized I wasn't. I used to also think that I would never meet another Roger and that my grandpa was the only one I would ever know. Also not true. One of our volunteers at the fish hatchery is named Roger (and actually knows my Roger). This new Roger and I had a lovely conversation on Sunday at the Father's Day Brunch but I may have to rename him.
When we were about to walk back to the house for supper we stopped to collect eggs. Here is a tidbit of information that I learned this week and probably never would have if I wasn't living in Spearfish for the summer. When chickens are old enough to lay eggs but not quite full-sized yet their eggs are called pullet eggs and are quite smaller than normal eggs, nearly half the size of the eggs we are used to. Like I said, I would never have learned that if I wasn't living with Roger.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
A Chicken-Kind-Of-Summer
My aunt Jackie is pretty much awesome! Today we took full advantage of both having the day off and went to a new thrift shop in Spearfish and I scored some great purchases (look for the post to follow). As we were leaving the store she asked me if I had ever heard of the feather strands that people get in their hair. Naturally, I had and not-so-shockingly, I have been obsessed with having them in my own hair for months and simply never got around to getting them done when I was back in Sioux Falls.
Her next move is what makes Jackie so great. Before I had even finished raving about the feather strands she was on the phone with her hair stylist and asked if they had any left and if we could stop in right then. Within minutes we were at the salon and I had picked out my feathers. My grandma asked what they were made of and when the stylist explained that they were made from the feathers of exotic chickens the three of us all smirked. We could be making a fortune if the 33 chickens that roamed in my grandpa's garden were exotic. This summer is truly 'going to the birds.'
As I was getting my feathers placed in my hair Jackie decided she absolutely had to have them too. It was quite the bonding experience and we joked that we never would have guessed that our day would shape out to include both getting feathers in our hair. My grandma even mulled over the decision for a few seconds!
Her next move is what makes Jackie so great. Before I had even finished raving about the feather strands she was on the phone with her hair stylist and asked if they had any left and if we could stop in right then. Within minutes we were at the salon and I had picked out my feathers. My grandma asked what they were made of and when the stylist explained that they were made from the feathers of exotic chickens the three of us all smirked. We could be making a fortune if the 33 chickens that roamed in my grandpa's garden were exotic. This summer is truly 'going to the birds.'
| Feathers! |
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| Jackie rocking feathers in her hair |
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| Can you catch my excitement over these? |
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| Jackie and I with our feathers! |
Photos were taken by my uncle, John. Check out his website and blog at http://www.finndogphoto.com/
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