in which we discover something new

Namely, that the ants which have been plaguing my culinary existance have value not only as entertainment, but nutritionally as well. If you managed to wade through that sentence, you’re probably wondering what recipe I’m going to throw your way this time. Never fear, Lily hasn’t been having insect tea-parties with my little girls – we’ve been feeding the ants to the 2 dozen fluffy little chicks that are maturing into egg-laying machines before our very eyes. Well, I hope they all make it to maturity. Today I have seen things….

Such as a chicken waltzing around my kitchen – in the joyous hands of Wesley.

And baby chicks so tired (also from irrepressable Wesley) that, when they were finally left alone, they were falling asleep on their feet! Seriously. One yellow chick was standing beside her two sleeping buddies. Her eyes would close, her head would droop… then she would startle and jerk upright with her eyes wide open. Then she’d relax and start over again. Eventually, when the silence lasted more than 30 seconds, she relaxed enough that her head slipped onto her friends’ backs, and eventually she flopped down like a bowl full of jello.

I’ve seen that in church, never in my laundry room.

[*edit* After rereading this, I thought I should clarify…. I’ve never seen the flopping part in church.] 😀

I hope it was a she. I want to share her eggs with my friends and neighbors.

We got a big kick out of the ants. (Or maybe that was just me. You know what they say about small minds….) We’d catch an ant and throw it in the box, and those baby chicks, fresh out of their shells would chase it around, even squabble over it, before finishing it off. Someone had the brilliant idea of letting the chicks loose to really keep the ant problem under control. I don’t see that happening – most of the ants come from the ceiling and breathe their last breaths on the countertops.

I tried hard to avoid the phrase “baby chicks” in this post – but the words came out anyway. Repetitive redundancy. I’m sorry and I apologize.


About ruthie.voth

Wife of one, mother of four, friend of many. Lover of details, color, good conversations, finding balance, and being honest. Passionate lover of a well-crafted sentence - even more so if it's witty. Weird blend of cynical optimist. I'm the worst kind of woman. I'm high maintenance, but I think I'm low maintenance. Somehow, people still love me. Must be grace.
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