No More B....

Oh sure, she was only a chicken. A farm animal. A Buff Orpington . I knew, in my logical mind, that I'd lose one eventually. But I'd hoped it would be many many months from now, or better yet, years from now. Farm animals die. Farm animals should not be named and loved.

There is now more much needed room in the coop. Dammit. Shit. Eff! Why could it not have been one of the others???? No amount of swearing will bring her back and bring me a sweet, darling, love of a hen. Chicken lovers....unite! Ahhh, on second thought, don't. I'm re-cooping....learning....

My Big Fat Soap adventure in Orlando did not end well. But that is what life is about, right? Re-group. Re-coop. Adjust.

I've learned a new skill today - I'm a fabricator.

Don't look too close. Like all new skills, practice is needed. I'll keep my day job. Soapmaking is where it's at. Still.

RIP Beatrice.

Your sisters refuse to lay in your box, even now. Eight days after your passing...they do not choose to communicate with me like you did, so I don't understand their reasoning.

I may find solace in a horse...Silk Purse???? Are you still available?