The Christmas Letter

X

The End.

Just kidding. But read here why that is acceptable...

Kathy and Eleanore put their Christmas letter together in record time this year. It took a little while for me to decipher all of the words because their penmanship is pure chicken scratch.




Dear Friends and Followers,

2011 was a busy year for us. It seems like all we did was work, work, work. Day after day it seems like we have nothing to show for it. But, as we reflect on the year as a whole we realize what blessings we are truly thankful for.

It may not be the barn of our dreams but we have food (most of the time), clean water (usually) and a roof over our heads. Every couple of months we get new bedding. You know how ladies like to redecorate. Also, we made a couple of other upgrades; the sun on demand and a new water feature!

More importantly, we have our health and we hope all of you do too.

Merry Christmas.

love,
Kathy and Eleanore

First Impressions

Though it may not seem fair, first impressions have a lot of impact. For example:

My first thought - Who would put their hen in a sweater?

My second thought - Oof, she isn't too pretty.

And then I read...

Homes for Hens

Does a coddled hen catch your eye? It is a curious sight. But it also represents a serious issue. Year-and-a-half-old hens in British battery farms—known as factory farms in the U.S.—are deemed expendable, despite having several years to live and many eggs to give. These images show how folks are opening their hearts and homes to these refugee birds.

I’ve always gravitated toward offbeat subjects and people. So when I learned about rescue hens, I could imagine a great visual story about a quirkily important cause. What’s more, unlike some animal-rights activists, the battery-hen advocates I’ve met in London and southern England are refreshingly open-minded, working with the farms to adopt hens and reform the system.

Next year European laws will ban conventional battery cages. Some of England’s 11.1 million battery hens will move to bigger digs. Many will need to be “re-homed.” I hope the humor and humaneness in these photographs raise awareness of the situation. —Ed Thompson

My Barn

I spotted this barn back in September when Aaron and I were in Augusta for the half IronMan. I wrote down the contact information on a business card and told myself that if I still thought about it and pined for it for a few months, then I could get it.

Of course, this photo doesn't do it justice. You can come come on over to the house and see it in person. (Just call first so I can pretend that my house is always that clean when you get there.)

I'm not real sure what the draw was for me. I was walking through a shop called Gallery on the Row while the athletes were out doing something athletic. I first came across a print of a dog on a people bed, comfortably snoozing in messed up sheets. It looked enough like spoiled Charlie on our bed to give to Aaron as an "I'm proud of you for accomplishing this incredible race and staying dedicated to all of the training associated with it - even though I sometimes complain about it" gift.

Anyway, I was headed to the counter to pay after a bit of perusing and it just got me. Something in me stirred. I'm pretty sure I let out a quiet "Oooh".  Everything about it, the matting, the frame. It was just so appealing. Even the price wasn't bad. But, alas, I am cheap and practical and made a lot of excuses not to buy it right then and there.

About a week ago I was thinking about it and decided to see if I could find that business card. I did. And quickly - which surprised me. I sent an e-mail to the gallery and to the artist (Sandra Whittaker) to tell them that I was interested in this framed piece, or a print if this one wasn't available. Sandra got back to me and let me know that it is an original painting and if I was interested she would put a SOLD sign on it so no one else could buy it. Sandra and I exchanged the necessary information and on Tuesday after work, as soon as I could get the bubble wrap and cardboard arranged haphazardly on the floor, hung up my Red Barn in Winter.

That "New" Math

I just realized that in my happy birthday post to my dad, I said that he was going to be 2x my age and I was going to his 1/2 his age.

I was incorrect.

I am not 30 this year.
I am 29. (as of the 12th)

Oops.

Hey Family - Did any of you notice?

It's Electric!

When I got home from work yesterday evening I started preparing for angle bracket installation. I grabbed some screws, a power screw driver, the angle bracket, the 3 way power splitter, and the new water fountain; then headed up the coop on foot.

Kathy and Eleanore had already put themselves to  bed in the nesting box. They were so peaceful before I so rudely turned on the lamp.

The first screw went in easily. The second screw, not so much. I am really glad no one was there to pass judgement on my creative use of the screwdriver. After the bottom screw was finally seated, I figured the hard part was behind me. Now all I had to was plug it in.

Before I left the house I toyed with the idea of wearing Aaron's headlamp/Charlie's headlight - but decided against it due to the amount of fur. I would be fine though,  the sun had not set all the way yet. And, I had the lamp anyway. Worst case, I would walk back to the lit house in the semi-dark.

What I failed to remember was that in order to plug the splitter into the timer into the really long extension cord which in turn I would plug the fountain into, I would have to disconnect power to the lamp.

I am standing in the doorway with my feet on the ground.

The chickens are over near the feeder clucking and pecking.

I unplug the lamp.

Dark.

The clucking gets louder.

The splitter is in my hand, but backwards and I can't find the holes.

I hear a dog. Or maybe a coyote. Not close, but close enough.

I fumble for the prongs on the back of the timer and the extension cord receptacle.

Light.

I re-organize the parts in my hands and study the spacing.

I unplug the extension cord.

Dark.

The chickens are noisy. I still hear that animal/those animals.

I wonder where the chickens are now. Are they heading for the door?

More fumbling.

I get the timer plugged into the splitter and the splitter into the extension cord.

Light.

The timer is in the middle spot.

#&%@ !

Dark.

More fumbling as I move it over a spot.

Light.

I plug in the fountain.

At this point I am relieved as I have light, two chickens, and the technology to keep water from freezing.

I have one little snafu (I just looked this up to see how to spell it - had no idea it was an acronym - I'll just keep going as if I were ignorant to that fact) though. I have the extension cord coming in from the left side of the door - the hinged side. And the only suitable place for the fountain was on the back wall (right side of the door). I will have to do some cable management before the fountain is electrified so that Kathy and Eleanore are not tempted to perch on a power line between the nesting box and water.

Fried Chicken?

Big $pender

I haven't made it to Home Depot yet, but while picking up the "groceries" for my gals I came across a heated water fountain. It is a little bit large - 3 gallons! - so I hope the bracket can handle it. 

Oh and about a week ago, I bought a barn. It arrived yesterday.

Pictures soon!


(Ew gross:Maybe not Fruit Flies)

Hanging it up

In an effort to maintain to cleanliness of the drinking water in the coop, I have finally purchased an angle bracket. It is my hope that this angle bracket, once installed, will suspend the full water fountain with ease.

Here is a picture of the feeder for reference. It looks pretty similar.

You might be asking yourself why I don't just hang the water up on the perch like I did the food. The answer - I don't always step up into the coop to feed and water the chickens. I just lean in from my door. (i.e. I am lazy.)  Also, when the temperature gets below freezing I have to change the water more frequently. It is difficult, when you have a beak, to drink ice.

This afternoon I will be doing some shopping for Kathy and Eleanore. First stop will be to the grocery store (Tractor Supply), and then onto Home Depot for a new bedroom suite (fresh hay).

Shoo fly, don't bother me!

Time flies like an arrow.

Fruit flies like a banana.

Aaron and I have engaged ourselves in a new activity when we get home from work. Fly swatting.

We have had the exterminators come "fix" the problem a couple of weeks ago. Since then we have taken the matter into our own hands. Each night we decrease the population by at least 90% and each day come home to a new swarm.

"I feel like I need to go to church. I have done a lot of killing lately."

"You'd think one of the survivors would go spread the word that their friends are dying."

We are pretty sure they are coming in through the sink drain. I'm not sure how they get into the pipes that lead to the sink drain, but I would like to figure it out.

Hey, Walgreens... I do too!

And at $3.99 each I could make a killing!

Just two things.

1.  53 eggs for November.

2.  How is it December already?

Party Fowl

So, maybe there really wasn't a party. It was a 5k/10k - The Hot to Trot on Thanksgiving day. Scratch that. Thanksgiving MORNING. Eric, Aaron and I showed up to volunteer for race set up at 5 a.m. donning these festive shirts. (Inspired by a pin on Pinterest)

Thanksgiving Baby - sometimes.

Today is my dad's birthday. It is one of those milestone birthdays - easily divided by 10. This year, his age will be twice my age. And, go figure, my age will be (in a couple of weeks) exactly half of his age.

One of our favorite activities as father and daughter is folding tarps. No, really, it is. Never a dull time.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Palindrome

Today's date, if written in the MM-DD-YY format, is a palindrome.

You know... one of those things, a word usually, that is the same forward as it is backward.

mom
dad
wow
noon
kayak
level
racecar
a man a plan a canal panama

In all honesty, it kind of bothers me that palindrome isn't what it says it is.

Safety First

Since we have fallen back an hour and continued to move further away from the sun, we have started walking/running in the dark.

For myself, I wear a seizure-inducing-flashing red LED light. Charlie gets a head light. Aaron's grilling headlamp works perfectly as a collar. I have thought about applying for a patent for the doggie head light. Who wouldn't buy a head lamp with dog friendly designs and pay triple to keep their furry friend safe?

Same, but different

Pardon the Interruption

This morning I took some food and water up to the coop.  The light was on and the ladies were stirring a little bit. Kathy walked over to the food dispenser and began eating breakfast. Eleanore was in the nesting box. She acted a little broody and made a noise that sounded somewhere between a purr and a chirp. I didn't attempt to collect any eggs.

I don't think I have ever realized how much area a hen can cover. When they are up walking around, or even just hanging out on the roost, I'd estimate they are about the size of a football. Not this morning. Eleanore's head looked so tiny compared to the spread out geometry of the rest of her feathery mass. I guess you have to do what you have to do to keep your eggs safe.

And, just so you know, I can't stand the show Pardon the Interruption.

Light (Hen) House

An early morning at the coop.

Cartons

When life gives you lemons, I've heard, you should make lemonade. I've also heard that without some water and sweetener, that is going to be some nasty lemonade.

When coworkers and relatives give you egg cartons, what do you make then? Cartonade? Yum. A high fiber, recyclable treat for all to enjoy.

I have this sneaking suspicion that these carton gifters might want something in return.

I wonder if this method would work for other goods/services.
Snazzy outfit? - here is a shopping bag and a shoe box.
Tasty lunch?  - here are my reusable grocery bags.
You bake? - here is a muffin tin, pie plate, cookie sheet, and cheesecake pan - No hurry!

I have had a couple of offers to pay for eggs or donate toward the next bag of feed. Someone offered to buy more chickens for me. I am not sure how serious they were.

Kathy, Eleanore and I are more than happy to oblige. Of course, the more people we have on our "list", the longer the wait. Unless, the flock should grow...

Squoze

Squoze.

I have used this word at least twice. It is not officially a word, as it is actually supposed to be "squeezed". Each time I have said "squoze" the conversation has fallen apart into laughter. Not all together a bad thing to fall apart into, but none the less, squoze is not a word.

I'm not sure where it came from, if I have heard it somewhere before, or if some language wires are crossed up in my gray matter. It just came out. "I squoze the other molds to make sure they were cured."  Natural as can be.

In the case of orange juice, I am 100% sure that I would never ask for fresh squoze, but fresh squeezed.

I tried to think of other words that would follow the same pattern that I, apparently, have adopted for squeeze.

Freeze is as close as I can get.

The water will freeze.
The water is freezing.
The water froze.
The water has frozen.    

The problem here is that I would never say squozen, or squozed for that matter. For the record I know that nothing has ever frozed.

Oh, well...

Let there be Light

The deed is done. I skipped my run tonight to take care of some things on the home front.

For the next few months Kathy and Eleanore will be waking up before the sun.

This is what the ladies were up to while I was setting up the lamp and timer.

Right after I took this picture, Kathy (L) reached over with her beak and Peck! right on Eleanore's neck. I guess she was feeling a little territorial over the bare spot.



This is Eleanore. I set the water basin on top of the bricks to avoid having so much hay floating in the water. There are usually a bunch of tasty creepy crawlies hiding out under the basin that scatter when I take it away to re-fill it.



Eleanore again. Upclose and personal in the nesting box. I think she was ready for bed.

Oops October

I only tallied 11 eggs for October. I know there were more than that, probably 4 or 5 times more... Who knows, it could have been a perfect 62 egg month.

I realize you would probably believe me without the photographic evidence, but I wanted to show off the calendar. Aren't those cows the cutest!?

Happy Halloween!

Just in case you are unsure... Russell Brand and Katy Perry.

Aaron looked much more like Russell than I Katy.

But we had fun.

Long Distance Running

After my last 1/2 marathon, which was also my first 1/2 marathon, I took about 4 months off.

About 10 weeks ago my pants decided that it was time for me to start running again.

My next goal race is the Secret City Half Marathon right here in East TN.

Do you know how the race of the marathon got its name? If not, you are in luck. Look what Wikipedia has for us: The traditional story relates that Pheidippides (530 BC–490 BC), an Athenian herald, was sent to Sparta to request help when the Persians landed at Marathon, Greece. He ran 240 km (150 mi) in two days. He then ran the 40 km (25 mi) from the battlefield near Marathon to Athens to announce the Greek victory over Persia in the Battle of Marathon (490 BC) with the word "Νενικήκαμεν" (Nenikékamen, "We have won") and collapsed and died on the spot from exhaustion.

Apparently someone, probably a man, thought collapsing and NOT dying from exhaustion after running 25 miles sounded like a challenge.

25 miles? If you thought a marathon was 26.2 miles you would be correct - something about the King and Queen and whatever year the Olympics were in their country they decided to reroute the course so they could watch the runners comfortably from their thrones.


With that established, it is clear that a half marathon is 13.1 miles. Something about the phrase "half marathon" bugs me though. It kind of sounds as if, "Oh well, HALF... if it is just half ...". Don't be fooled, it is still a tough race. I feel like it deserves an alternate name. A name like Anoixi.

It has a nice ring to it, right? I have no idea to pronounce it. It is a town halfway between Athens and Marathon.

Anyway, if you're in town and feel like getting up early and breathing some cold, fresh air - come out and support some runners! 

Charlie is ready. Are you?

Charlie went the au naturale route when it went to picking out a costume for Halloween. He is a party animal... (Aaron does not approve. Something along the lines of not being many enough.)

Halloween at our house usually goes something like this:

Kids - Trick or Treat!
Me - Uhhh, we have candy corn
Kids - Candy corn? Man, we ran up that driveway for nothin'.
(I'm cheap, ok)

This year though we are doing things a little differently. Stay tuned!

Time for Change - and blankets!

I have heard that some people hate change. I probably do too, but I like to say that it excites me. Sometimes change is necessary. In my life, it is necessary for small bits of happiness - like replacing ugly knobs with pretty ones, or a new piece of running attire to change my attitude for the better about running. (Speaking of which, it might be time for a new pair of shorts.)

In the case of my blog, it was a little bit of both. I was a little disturbed when I realized the background was light, Andes mint, green. Also, I feel like I have been getting stale. Who wants to read about my chickens anyway? Time for a new pair of "shorts"!

It doesn't really matter how many people read. It would be nice if that number were greater than zero, but mostly I just enjoy writing. Even about my nonsense. Mostly about my nonsense. More accurately, I like the place my brain goes to for awhile when I am on "task" with a blog post. When I am done writing it, and I "come back" from whatever retreat I was just on, I usually feel better. Kind of like running.

And, the weather is changing.
And, the slats were getting old.
And, I like quilts.  (Actually, its more of a love for all blankets in general.)
So, there.

It looks cozier to me.  Hope you like it!

The Cold, (Wet) Truth

At the risk of grossing you out...

The drinking water in the coop sometimes looks like this:

 

Eleanore likes to stand on the edge of the basin while she grabs a drink. 

The problem is what else she stands in throughout the day.

Hay

Dirt

Bugs

Poop

(Sorry, its true)

Did anyone just become a vegetarian?

How long has this background been green? I thought it was a nice yellow-y straw color. Monitors. Hmph.

Colder Weather

I think the cold front that moved in to town last night is here to stay for a while. I might name this cold front Autumn. Or Fall if you prefer.

Not the Myers home -  just in case you were confused.

Either way, it is nearing time to get out the longest-extension-cord-I've-ever-seen-in-my-life (a chicken farming gift from my dad), unreel it from Shed #1 to the Coop, and light up Kathy and Eleanore's lives.

Since it is getting chillier, and the hours of daylight shorter, I will be using an incandescent imposter to keep the eggs a comin'. 

*** I swear I remember writing something about why I needed to put a light in the coop, but I can't seem to find it - if this is a re-run for you, my bad. If not - here is a little explanation: (And of course now I don't remember what my source was, probably the internet. The internet knows everything, and thanks to the Google, now I can too.)***

Anyway, apparently hens need so many hours of light a day to keep the egg production steady. So in the winter months, with less light, it is likely that I won't collect as many eggs.  Also, even though they are birds, I worry about their comfort level.

5 Years

I have been keeping chickens alive in our backyard for 1 year now.

I have been counting off the days until I retire for 5 years. Only 10,950 left. How time flies...

I graduated college in May of 2004. I didn't start my "real" job - you know, the one that kind of pertains to my major - until October 15, 2006. Thank you (I suppose),  Bed, Bath and Beyond.

Bed, Bath and Beyond was the lesser of  the 3 evil "transition jobs".

Sometimes, on the occasional night or weekend or even holiday, I like to walk in there, with our without a purchase in mind, and just feel good about not wearing the navy blue apron, not suspecting everyone of being the MYSTERY SHOPPER!, not worrying about the piles of unfolded towels, not wondering how long I can hide from a manager or customer in the stock room that exists in the center of the store... It just kind of puts things in perspective. I might go tonight and celebrate!

Remember: No matter how bad you think your job is - You could be working retail for linens and kitchen gadgets.

Videos - a 2nd chance

 Well, hopefully this will work better. Thanks for the helpful comment, Wes!

They worked last night! What the heck?!?!?!?

Venting

I could turn this in to a post about chickens. They do, after all, have a vent as part of their anatomy. (That is where the egg comes out.)

Instead I am going to just let it rip:

Why, Blogger, won't you play my videos? I mean, I know they aren't that good, but they are more entertaining than "This video is currently unavailable." 

And, another thing - stop spitting your tobacco around me! Oh wait, that isn't the website. And come to think of it, neither are any of the other grievances - shoot!

I'm not sure this relationship between Blogger and me {although we've made it over a year together) is going to survive much longer.

Don't worry about Kathy and Eleanore, they will still be around doing what they do best. As for me... I might have some other ideas/interests in mind.

Hide and Seek

and Peck!

Ok. I'll call this a teaser and write a rain check. I didn't realize how bad the light (or lack there of) appears off the camera.

And those are the same video. Blogger decided there should be two of the same to make itself happy. Who am I to stand in the way of that?

Self Imposed Challenge Results

I think I only wore my hair in a (slightly unkept) pony tail 4 times. I broke out the flat iron a few mornings. There were a couple of braids, a headband now and then...

 This had to be my best hair day of September. I actually left the house with wet hair and mindlessly twisted it around my fingers in traffic. When it was finally dry at work it looked really (relative term) good.

This particular day I spent A LOT (relative term) of time on my hair trying to make waves with the flat iron. I realize this sounds counterintuitive, but according to reliable internet sources it can be done. It ended up in a pony tail - headband combo shortly after this look of disgust. (For some reason it is easier for me to take a goofy picture of myself than "acting natural" while observing my own reflection.)

If I were to grade myself, I'd get a B+ for effort.

-ahhh, the formatting is driving me nuts!-

A month or 12

September Egg Yield: 47

September 2010 - September 2011 Egg Yield: 523

or if you prefer... 

A graphical representation:

The Dirty (half) Dozen

Just a peek at what the eggs look like before I wash them and put them in a carton.

I would say the amount of "debris" shown here is a good representation of average cleanliness. Some days are better, some days are worse. 

In a year's time

I have learned some things about poultry and I have learned some things about myself.

First the birds:

• Hens, I have learned, can be quite particular about their brooding grounds. The anticipation of those first eggs...
• Even though they tend to poop where they eat and sleep - they have a fine appreciation for cleanliness/fresh hay.  
• They like the rain.
• They put themselves to bed before it gets dark.
• Hens like to chase and eat bugs - and they are good at it!
• They like me best when I am holding food.

and now, me:

• When I put my mind to it, I can stay on topic - mostly.
• This blog has been and hopefully will continue to be a good creative outlet.
• My photos have better quality when I take them with Aaron's fancy camera takes rather than my "Ah, it's good enough" camera.
• Amazingly, I was able to keep pretty upbeat or at least neutral topics. (i.e. I didn't use my creative outlet as an outlet to deal with annoyances or irritations {i.e. I didn't b*tch.})
• I prefer to "farm" in mild temperatures, in the daylight, when it is not raining and there are few mosquitoes.
• I have grown more and more hesitant to order eggs out at a restaurant.

Happy Anniversary!

Today marks my first year with Kathy and Eleanore.

Happy Anniversary, Ladies!

Thanks for all of your hard work.

When I went up to the coop this morning to deliver their anniversary cards, this is what I got in return.

Tragic Comedy or Comic Tragedy?

A couple years ago, Aaron invited Dave to come live at our house. For a while Dave was greeted on a regular basis when we returned home, " 'Sup, Dave?!" or "Dave! How's it going?" and once in a while upon our departure, "See ya later, Dave."

Through the years Dave just didn't have the same luster and shine that he used to. None the less, Dave remained.

Last night I went to water some plants on the front porch and came across Dave. Not an unusual place to find him, but he wasn't looking very good.

If anyone is having trouble with the fact that our lawn gnome was named, you probably didn't watch David the Gnome during your youth.

Sunday's Visitor

With the pitchfork in hand I headed up to the coop to perform a hay exchange. A dark shadow in the brush behind the coop caught my attention. I was ready to take on this demon if need be. After all, I was armed. I think it started to approach me first. I paused. And then the demon wagged its tail. I pat my hand on my thigh and the happy creature came over for some lovin'.

I noticed how skinny she was and how old and tattered her collar looked. So back down the hill I went with a friend in tow. I got her a bowl of food and POOF! it was empty. She hung around for a little while while I tended to the chickens. She was very interested in my small flock.

When I was finished I called the number on her lone tag. The operator there called the owner. No answer. At this point the two of us are hanging out on the front porch. There may or may not have been bones involved. A couple of hours later the owner called us and said that Skinny Minnie here was not actually her dog. She had found her as a stray, kept her for a little while and then gave her to a foster. The foster kept her for a little while until she found a more permanent home.

After an early afternoon of phone tag and a calm evening with (newly dubbed) Roxy resting in the living room with Charlie - the what-ifs crept in.

What if we don't find her owner?  What if she was abandoned?  What if I fed her too much today?  What do we do with her tomorrow while we are at work?  Are we ready for a second dog? More importantly does Charlie want another dog? If we take her to the vet and don't adopt her will we still be charged?

After dinner I took some recyclables to the new bin and Roxy was right on my heels on the way out of the house. She decided to go meet the neighbors. Then all of the sudden runs down to the street while 2 cars are passing. (This rarely happens.) I said a 4 letter word in front of my neighbor and his kid - Sorry!- then chased after the little black dog. One of the cars stops and the driver side door opens...

(At this point a lot of thoughts are going through my mind and I am probably being unfair and extremely judgemental so I'll just say...)

Hoppy was reunited with her lady and Sir Charles still has sole reign of the kingdom.

Doing our part

...with the cart. The City of Knoxville has decided to let 20,000 households sign up for free curbside recycling. (There are still around 3000 carts available - click the link!)



Recycling


When I first heard the news I was very excited. Last week when our giant "cart" arrived (it is more like a garbage can, but bigger) my excitement was renewed.

For the past three years or so, Aaron and I have been above average recyclers. Admittedly, sometimes we got lazy and the collections in our homemade bins would overflow, and recyclables would hit the regular ol' kitchen wastebasket.  It really is amazing how much waste can be recycled. At our recycling highs, we would hardly have enough trash to take down to the street each week. But for the most part, we did well and made trips to the nearest recycling center every so often.

But now... the recycling center is coming to us!

Would it surprise you if I told you I had a song for this post?

Re Re Re Re Re Re Cy cle
Re Re Re Re Re Re use it
No No Do not trash it
No No Don't abuse it!

I cannot take credit for that lyrical genius. I learned that from a man named Ray Cycle. He wore green tights and a matching green cape. Here is a little sumpin' sumpin' about him  Recycling Superhero Zaps Trash With Song

Do Spoiled Chickens Make Rotten Eggs?

Last night on my way home from work I had to stop by Tractor Supply. Instead of walking straight back to the 50 lb bags of layer pellet, I perused. I looked at some clothes and boots, books and magazines, feeders and traps... and then I came across treats. Treats for my chickens. I debated between the pecking block and a bag of mixed seed. The pecking block is basically 20 lbs of mixed seed stuck together in the form of a cube.

I picked it up.
I put it down.
I picked it up again and read the label.
I made a "hmmmn" face.
I put it down.
I picked up the bag of mixed seed.
I made a slightly different "hmmmn" face.
I walked around the aisle and heaved the 50 lbs of pellet into my arms.

This morning Kathy and Eleanore were treated to a delicious breakfast of mixed seeds and vegetables.

Remembering

This weekend I ran in the Firefighters 5k in Sweetwater, TN.  This year, on the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks, the goal for the race was to have 1 runner for each of the 343 FDNY members who gave their lives.  I shared my bib number with Jose Guadalupe. I did not know him. Today I know a little more about him, though only through what was shared about him after his death.

Remembering NYC Firefighter Jose A. Guadalupe

Sad news about Jose.