Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Mean old Rooster!

Just a note. The picture I posted on my site is my Aunt Katherine, my grandfather Millard and my mother, Betty, at 14 years old.

I finally got my PDA yesterday and had a lot of fun playing with it. It has a GPS in it. Can't wait until the other programs are downloaded so I can start getting help from them. It will be my memory and walk me through everything I forget, or get distracted and don't get back to. I went to two Dr's appointments last week on the wrong days. I really had written them down on the wrong days. Hopefully this will also help me with taking my medications on time and not forgetting them, as I do.

Today I went with a friend to a Prayer Shawl Ministry. They pray over the shawls and then present them to people who are bereaved or ill. It was very moving. I loved it. Now here is something I can do for the Lord. I can crochet and I can serve. They furnish the hooks, knitting needles and the yarn. And we get to eat cookies, listen to music, fellowship and pray.

I guess it is time to tell another story about my strange and crazy friends/relatives. My daughter has a farm (see Down on the Farm blog) and at one point it started with a cardboard box full of baby chicks. When they were grown and a new Rooster started feeling his oats I was asked to chicken sit while the family were away. This Rooster was mean and trying to take over the coop and he didn't want me anywhere near the place. I still had to face him and feed his chickens, to my chagrin. After about 2 pecks on my toes and one on my hand I had had enough. I chased him off. But as soon as I turned my back he would attack me again. One time even jumping on my back and flapping his wings. I thought, I could be scared or mad. Well, Mad won out!
The very next time I went to feed the chickens I wore a long tailed blue cotton shirt unbuttoned. When the rooster came at me I flapped my shirt over my head and ran at him as fast as I could. I had to do this about three more times but he finally got the message that I was incharge, not him. Never had any more trouble with him after that. As soon as my daughter came back, she had her own battle with him. I told her, "Chicken and Dumplins"!

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