Recently in Favorite Things Category

The 98 - 100 year old apple tree in my backyard is gone.

We woke this morning to rain. I paid it no mind and went about getting Gracie ready for school. As daylight came Gracie says, "Everything is whitish but not frost." I did not pay much attention and went on with getting the fires roaring and other things like pouring coffee down my throat.

She went out to the bus and I saw what she meant. Everything was dripping in ice.The trees where groaning under the weight and all of the box wood were bowed down. I could hear cracking and popping and a big crash but thought it was over at the neighbors.

The rain picked up and I went in to get the keys for the truck so I could run down and let Gracie stay warm and dry while she waited. When I went out to the truck I instantly saw the tree. It had broken. Not just broken but the weight had pulled it by the roots from the ground. It missed the front of three of our vehicles by a foot. I moved the trucks back to take photos.

It was a beautiful tree that bloomed and gave welcome shade in the summer.

It's time has passed.

Christmas cactus begin to bloom.

This is the first time mine has bloomed. I have had it for three years. I gave up on it after last year. I plunked it into a pot, stuck it in a window and watered it when I remembered. No pampering or coddling. My reward for its neglect are those gorgeous pink and white blossoms.

I guess I am like Momma Walton in The Homecoming and long for flowers in the dead of winter.

When Zoe was lost it was a very long time before Colby was ready for another pet. I have to admit it was the same for me. Zoe was one of those pups that came into our world and left a huge mark on our lives in a very short period of time. She set the standard for the idea of a house companion. Her loss was a huge gaping hole in our lives for a very long time.

It was near the time that I met Steve that Colby began to ask for another dog. Another miniature poodle to be exact. She didn't just want a dog or a pet. When it was obvious that we would most likely be moving to Virginia and starting a new life with Steve I had asked her to wait until that time and then we would get a another puppy.

After we moved and were settled Steve always threw up red flags as to why we couldn't have another puppy. His dog would not understand. His dog would feel threatened. His dog was too nervous and wouldn't be able to cope with another pet in the house. Blah blah blah. So Colby and Grace were told there would be no puppy. No dog. No cat.

When we moved to this house I really wanted another dog. The exact same excuses where thrown up at every turn. After Steven was born I talked about having a puppy for Steven to grow up with because every boy needs a dog to share his boyhood with. Steve was against the idea completely. It caused a lot of frustration and more than a few tears of my own. I was beginning to feel like I was a child being told I couldn't have a puppy. It was/is a feeling I do not like and had a lot of trouble tolerating. I even considered getting a dog and letting the chips fall were they may.

When Steve's dog passed on things changed. There was no reason nor excuse of her presence that could be used to veto another dog. When Steve and I talked and decided to get another dog that sort of set in motion something in me that could not be stopped. If he could choose a dog and bring it here to live so could I. If we could start all over with new pets there was no reason whatsoever to continue to deny Colby and Grace a puppy that had now become a fuzzy dream.

Monday morning I placed a call in answer to an ad in the Charlottesville newspaper looking for a new home for puppies. The gentleman was very nice. He described his litter as friendly pups, dark apricot in color and only one female of five puppies in the litter. I made arrangements to go visit and see the puppies that afternoon.

When Gracie came in from school I loaded up the truck and we took a drive deep into the Blue Ridge in search of a little farm in the moutains owned by a lovely Mennonite family.

As we would around a mountain side and into a valley and over a ridge and down into the next valley it took us a bit longer to find the place than I had planned. Just before dark we made our way into a hollow and pulled up to a newish style farmhouse.

The gentleman of the house met me at the door. Wonderful smells of supper poured out of the door and wrapped me in warmth on a cold fall evening. Gracie had no idea why we were at this place. Steve was sleeping in his car seat. I roused them both and went in. In through the the livingroom and to the kitchen where his wife, several daughters, a couple of sons and a littler of puppies where in a flurry of evening activity.

Some girls helped to cook. Some girls set the table. Boys played with puppies and wandered in and out from rooms in the back of the house. The dogs present where two different sizes. I assumed the larger pup was the mother of the litter and the other two were her puppies. I was wrong. The mother was a miniature poodle, some of the other pups where miniatures as well. Two of the pups where toy size. The only girl was a toy. It didn't take much for Gracie to decide that she was the one.

In a matter of a few minutes the deal was sealed. We wound our way out of the mountains and back to the flat lands with a puppy who easily got car sick. Not once but three times before we made it home. Then yet again when Mr. Grumpus held her while Gracie went to change her clothes and bathe. Mr. Grumpus, who did not think he could tolerate much less begin to like a tiny dog, has taken to her like crazy. He is a little intimidated by her size but still very much taken with her.

Our new family member is Abby, a toy poodle, apricot in color with the sweet disposition you could ever imagine.

All of the dogs went to the vet Wednesday morning. That was a bit of a three ring circus. All of the dogs check out in great shape. They all got shots. J.E.B and Ajax got their rabies vaccination. J.E.B will be fixed in two weeks. That might just help him to settle down, too. Ajax won't be big enough for the surgery until sometime in March. The vet was very pleased with them and was really surprised they came from the pound.

Abby will be microchipped next month. She is 2lbs 4oz now and maybe in a month she will gain another pound and it will be easier for them to slip the needle under her skin to inject the chip. She did get her puppy boosters and as yet she is far too small for a rabies vaccine so we will wait until such time as she is big enough.

We had planned to get Abby a sweater to help keep her warm. Steve didn't like the idea of 'dressing up a dog' and wasn't keen on it. The vet recommeded that she have a sweater and his attitude changed. He suggested we should buy the sweater for Colby and Gracie and anything else needed for Abby. And so we did. Last night we made a trip with all the kids and all the puppies to petsmart and went shopping. J.E.B. got a new crate. Ajax got a new rawhide. Steve got a new book. Gracie chose a sweater. colby chose a coat. I chose a lovely shampoo, conditioner and spritz for bathing Abby and keeping her sweet smelling.

I still think we need one more. A small companion for Abby. Abby is one of  Colby's  and Grace's Christmas presents. Normally I don't think puppies are good to wake up to on Christmas morning because they are often spur of the moment type things to make a big impact but I have really wanted to do this for a very long time for them. Now was the right time.

Now before you groan and say, "OMG, she's gone crazy! You must know I grew up in a family with many dogs. My grandparents had indoor and outdoor dogs. My stepfather had a kennel of hunting dogs (beagles, hounds, bird dogs, etc.) and we had outdoor pets. My mother wasn't crazy about a dog in her house so we were limited to the outdoor variety of pets. When Colby was born that changed and she allowed indoor dogs - go figure. My former in-laws had several small pampered indoor dogs and a few spoiled outdoor dogs.

I have always lived  in the coumtry, always had great pets. I've been looking forward to this day for a long time now. Steven is learning to interact with each of the different pets. Gracie is loving being able to take the dogs for a walk and having them to play with.Colby is loving having dogs in the house again and the sound of life all around her. Steve admits he is enjoying watching and interacting with the kids and dogs and traveling as a pack. The dogs go with us everywhere and are really well behaved.

I am feeding the dogs a more natural diet. They get rice, yogurt and eggs in the morning and fresh meat protein and a bit of puppy chow in the evenings. The kennel stench is now gone and their coats are beginning to show a shine. Ajax has lost his bloated belly and the gas is gone. Abby loves her rice, yogurt and eggs in the morning. It is one thing we don't have to hand feed her that she will gobble right up.

Speaking of eggs - I am getting about a dozen or so a day now. I collect twice a day. I hope you can tell the variety of colors. They are gorgeous! Such beautiful dark yolks, too.

Want to hear what I hear every morning?

Cool, huh?

Please pardon the quality of the video, it is grainy. The small digital camera takes a quick film clip but when it is uploaded and changed from one format to another the picture quality really bites it. I am going to use the videa camera and try to get a better film later today.

When I left Georgia and came to Virginia I had to get rid of my flock. That was hard. I loved my chickens but I loved Steve more and so I moved up here and married him. I am the lucky one.

It has been four years since beginning this new adventure and just this year I have been able to begin building another flock of hens.

This spring when I got chicks from McMurray I ordered a few of several breeds. I wanted to remind myself what it was I liked and didn't like in certain birds. Buff Orpingtons have long been a favorite but for some reason I am just not in a BO raising mood up here -although I do have four pullets now. I love BIG birds. I don't like bantums and I don't like fru fru chickens either. No real particular reason why other than I just prefer the bigger breeds.

If it were possible to raise roosters without mayhem in the coop I would in a heart beat. I love those guys! I have 3 rooms for chickens in my barns and I don't think Steve would build me runs for every breed I take a fancy to.

I thought I would show you two of my favorite boys that I have now.

This is Buster. He is a Barred Plymouth Rock.

This is Laf (as in Lafayette, Marquis De La). He is a Cuckoo Maran.

They are pretty big boys at 19 weeks, suprisingly large to me. I guess it shows how well they eat.

I can't wait to see how their tails feather out. It is so exciting to watch them grow! I especially like the way the red of their combs and wattles really stands out against their black and white barring.

Both are pet quality and nothing special for the breed. I raised them and I love them and so that makes them super duper in my book.

So now can you point out the differences in the roosters? Can you see what characteristics mark them for one particular breed or another?

It is very easy to confuse a barred plymouth rock, a cuckoo maran or a dominique - unless you know what to look for.

I'll help you out.

First, look at their combs. Both have a single comb. So obviously they are not a Dominique which has a rose comb (but in a few cases can have a single comb).

Second, look at their legs. Barred Rocks have yellow legs. Cuckoo Marans have white legs. You can see the leg color follows through with the beak.

Thirdly, look at the pattern (or barring) of the feathers. The barred rock has a more consistant pattern whereas the cuckoo maran has a 'cuckoo' or irregular pattern.

Forth, typically cuckoo marans are much lighter in color, especially when compared to the hens of the same breed.

Learning to identify the different breeds isn't hard if you are interested in learning. It really isn't much differnt than someone looking at a dog and quickly being able to identify the breeding. When something strikes your interest it is easy to learn about them.

I don't know how to take the photos so that you get a true idea of the size of these two roosters. When they straighten their necks out to crow they are somewhere around 2 foot tall. When you pick them up and tuck them under your arm it is like carrying a basket ball. At 19 weeks they weigh in at around 8lbs or more each. I love watching and noting the changes in their growth. They won't be at full size until around two years old. They will go through one or two molts in his first year but then when they feather out they are going to look incredible.

While these roosters are docile and gentle to us now as they age it is possible for them to become aggressive. Roosters are preprogramed by nature to act and react, to protect their flock and their territory. They do learn some behavior but it isn't always possible to condition the birds. Natural temperment plays a big roll. These birds can seriously hurt a human, even a human that feeds and cares for them. It is the equivalent of a bull or a stallion or a hog or a male guard dog. My birds seem to know that we are the head roosters and so far they treat us that way. The hens squat by us indicating they are ready for mating - it is their submission to us - which is a good thing.

We watch carefully when the children, especially Steven, are out in the coop with us. He can quickly become a target of the birds. They could seriously injure him and then I would have to kill them all (the roosters). You can't train it out of them when they decide to make one thing their target.

It is also nearing the time when all of the extra roosters have to be culled. Only one rooster to a hen house and I am lucky that I have such a big place and can have several hen houses therefor several roosters. We had a bit of a shake up in the coop yesterday. I'll be telling you about it later. The pecking order has changed and will change again.

I am curious to see who comes out on top as the king of the hen house.

My mood is very light today*. Start the video below if you want a taste of the mood that has filled me inside out this afternoon. It's music to read by.

I was out on the front porch watering my plants. Gracie and Steven were in the driveway, Gracie pulling him along in his red wagon, their voices punctuated with bursts of laughter. The cool breeze in a grey sky stirred the leaves on the trees making the hanging baskets swing gently back and forth as they dripped water from the long soaking drink the shower hose provided just minutes before.

I love my front porch. I love the rockers. I love the plants. I love everything about it (except maybe those aweful lamps at the front door but those can be changed one day when I remember to pick something new up from Lowes. Perhaps this but with a brighter brass finish to match the hardware on the glass door. There are some very high priced things that I love but, get real, I am not spending that kind of money on some outdoor lights when these will work and look just as nice.)

There is something so completely southern and victorian and charming about ferns on a long front porch of a big white house. It is gentile. Even on a very hot day it looks cool and inviting. White rockers, white wicker, green ferns and tall glasses of lemonaide filled with cracked ice, sweating into cool puddles on the side tables as the creak of the rockers make harmony with the birds and crickets - soothing and serene is how my brain interprets it.

My grandmother always had tons of plants on her front porch. It was like a jungle. Passersby would see a big white house with a long white front porch filled with baskets and baskets upon baskets of various plants. She had pots of mother-in-law tongues, wandering jew (varigated and purple), swedish ivy, rubber tree plants, string of pearls, peace plants, bridal veil, spider plants, several types of begonias (angel wing is my favorite begonia), corn plant, hen and chicks, moses in the cradle -just to name a few. Her plants where monster sized. She fed dozens of plants weekly with a drink of water mixed with Peter's plant food (back when it came in little white cups). I can see her now with her gallon milk jug full of blue water and a large tumbler in her hand. Every plant got a full tumbler of water.

I remember that during the winter the room she kept them in had lots of light and was filled to brimming with her collection of plants. She would see something she liked somewhere and would pinch off a piece and bring it home and stick it in a pot of soil. She would plants seeds from her grocery store fruit just to see what she could grow.

My grandmother had a green thumb beyond belief. The vining plants she grew were amazing. Some of the plants would hang from their pots and measure over five foot in length. She would eventually get around to snipping them off and starting yet another plant or give them away to someone who was awed by her plants.

My grandmother never had ferns. I don't know why. I never asked her and she never actually said but she never had ferns on her front porch. I have always loved ferns. Especially boston ferns.

The boston ferns I picked up in early spring when it might have been a bit too cool for them to be outside. I had brought home two ferns and I broke them up into four pots. In this area ferns are at a premium in price. You could have knocked me over with a feather when one plant nursery had theirs marked at the low discount price of $19.95 each. Um, no thanks. Not interested. I found my two little baskets at walmart's garden center and repotted them myself. I have spent the summer periodically breaking them up and setting new pots. Now I have eight ferns in various stages of development.

I have no idea where I will put them when the weather changes and they need to be brought in. I love the hanging baskets they are in. The baskets are lined with cocoa fiber so watering them in the house will be a mess. It is a nusance to me to have to take all the plants one at a time to the tub and water them and then have to wait for them to drip dry before rehanging them.

The large ferns on either side of the door are two I picked up at Lowes garden center. The plants had been marked down for clearance for quick removal. I always try to have something large and green on either side of the front door. It just looks inviting to my eye. These two large plants need to be broken up and put into at least 20 inch pots. Where I would put 4 twenty inch pots so that they get good light and are easily accessible for watering? I hate dripping mess after watering plants but I love the plants. LOL I don't mind all the care they need when outside I just dread bringing them in and the leaf dropping and dripping water mess they can create. Any suggestions?

On the wicker tables are peace plants, I started those from 2 little tiny $2 pots (small small plants lol). They should be transfered to larger pot also. I don't know if a larger pot will as nice on those tables. I guess I need to break them apart and make new pots, too.

I don't think I can justify the need of new (more) flower pots to Steve. He won't understand that the square ones on the chains are outdoor pots and just won't do in the house. Also have you looked at the price of large pots? Plastic ones just will not do either. Added to the problem is the need for them to match the decor in the room in which they are to rest over the late fall and winter. See? Always something in need of beautifying. He completely won't understand and will suggest some of those old ugly green or white plastic pots most hanging baskets come from the nursery in. I want something ceramic and lovely to set on a dresser or side table upstairs. I want something fullbodied to set in the downstairs hall which floods with light. I can hang two of the plants in the kitchen in new hanging baskets but the rest will have to be transplanted to regular pots with a drainage saucer. Steve just wouldn't understand the need of it.

You know, you could save me from all of this headache and send me one of your own lovely 10 inch pots and take the chore right out of my hands. Email me at big red couch (at) gmail (dot) com and I'll tell you were to send them. Haha! Just kidding! I am not scarfing for free flower pots! Who am I kidding? Yes, I am! Ummm ...

See this little rocker? I know someone is going to ask me where I got it. This is one sweet deal. This is a rocker for Steven. At nine years old Gracie is still able to sit comfortably in it so it isn't as small as you might think it is. I had seen these rockers at Tractor Supply in early summer. I refused to pay the price they wanted for it. Nearly 100 bucks. The hell? It is a small rocker not an adult sized rocker. Every time I would go in I would look longingly at them but just could not pay the price for them. I watched and waited. One day there were two left and the store had marked them down 25%. The price was still not nearly good enough for me to bring one home with me. I was waiting and watching every time I went into the store until one day there was one left and it was marked down to 25% of the original price. Score! So I brought it home.

I love the look of my front porch. It makes me happy to be out there. I love water the plants and wonderful smell that rises with water, wet soil, plant food, and the fresh air. I even like the chore of sweeping the porch as I wait outside for Gracie to be picked up by the school bus.

Now that you have seen my front porch would you show me yours?

Post a photo of your front porch (or back porch or side porch or patio) and leave a link in the comments section of this post. I'll come visit and post your link here in the main body so others can come visit your porch.

*This post was written early saturday afternoon