They Were Right

It turns out the Delawares were right to keep a low profile.  Two days ago I had seven chickens, now I have five.  I found one dead when I went out to tuck all the critters in a couple nights ago.  I don't know how old these birds are, and there were no signs of mayhem, so I was thinking natural death.  I'm usually very careful about counting beaks at bedtime, but guess I was preoccupied, because when I let the flock out yesterday morning, another hen was missing.  Dang, I hate that that happened.  There were no holes dug under the fence and no sign that a wild thing had climbed or broken through the chicken wire...maybe a hawk?

When Deb said they wouldn't be coming up, that put the brakes on any plans to do housework and I just piddled around the rest of Friday.  The Saturday cooking shows were on yesterday and they were a good excuse, too, until I remembered that Candy, the itinerant hairdresser, would be coming in late afternoon to give me a much-needed haircut.  Yikes!  It was full steam ahead from then on.  I surprised myself with how much I can get done under the incentive plan, and could open the door for her without apologies.

After Candy had gone, there was an unfamiliar sound in the hills.  It appears that some kid in the neighborhood is taking trumpet lessons and was practicing.  After some false starts, he or she was working on three notes...the first three notes of "Three Blind Mice."  Three blind mice, three blind mice, over and over again.  I was praying for "See how they run," or maybe the mom could say dinner was ready.  I wish the kid well in his endeavors.  Maybe next week the teacher will give him another three notes to work on and the mice can get a rest.