BBS...I think.

Chicken vs Toasted Marshmallow

The chicken makes it through okay.

Now, I'm just explaining this to you because you look nervous.

Because, we can stop now if you want.

:)

Let's just quickly take a moment to reflect on, how good is The Princess Bride?

The fire pit got some good use last S'more night.  The s'mores were delicious and enjoyed by all...chickens included.

I never imagined I'd Google the phrase: "How to get marshmallow out of a chicken's feathers". Want to know something, Google doesn't have an answer for that.  WHAT?!?!  It's true.  So, here's how the night went down:

Loretta:  Mmmm, you're looking fine tonight.  Let me just have a wee nibble.

Dolly:  Fine, it's really messing up my gorgeous feathers.  Hey, no biting!

Loretta:  Yum!  I never knew how much I love marshmallows!  Hey, Starlight, get the heck out of here you fowl thing (haha), my marshmallow!

Starlight:  Whatevs, Loretta, I already called dibs...and ummmm, you've got a little something on your face...no, not there, over there... no, the other side....

Starlight:  Ohhh yeah, I am all about toasted marshmallows!  Why doesn't Heather give us this for breakfast lunch and dinner instead of that crap chicken scratch, anyway?

Loretta:  Meh, it's all yours.  Hey, anybody got a mirror?  Apparently I've got a little something on my face...anyone?  Where's a parakeet when you need one?

Starlight:  Let me just....grab...get this little bit there.

Starlight:  Ohh, it's stuck just a bit let me pull harder...Soooo yummy.  You know what would really make this?  Chocolate and Graham Crackers...Hey, I just thought up a new recipe.  I'll call them...toasted marshmallows with meltsy chocolate sandwiched between two grahams.  Yeah, that's a catchy name.  HAHA I'm a genius!  Hey, Dolly, get back here...

Ginger: Hey guys, what's going on over here?  Wait a minute, wait a minute...is that toasted marshmallow all over you?!?! Come over here Dolly!  Hey, sorry about all those times I chased you around the yard trying to eat your poop, you're my favorite chicken...hey want some of my dog food?  Come on, sharing's caring you know...

Starlight:  Get the heck out of here Ginger.  Mmm hmmm...you got just a touch back here, let me just get that...Got it!

Dolly:  Well, I feel thoroughly hen pecked.  How's my hair look?

Dolly:  Boss Hen (that's me), can I get a hand here, the gals were no help.  Thanks for nothing, ladies!

And since Google was no help either, I decided to play it by ear, but unfortunately didn't get any pictures to share as I was busy taking care of business.  So I'll paint a picture for you.

Me:  Husband, help me grab her.
Husband: What?  Are you sure that's sanitary?
Me:  Sanitary?  No, but we've got to do something.  Fine, sit there, I'll grab her.  I proceed to grab chicken, making sure to hold tight to her wings so she doesn't smack me across the face with them.
Me:  Okay, now here, take her.  Hold onto her wings! I hand chicken off to husband and run inside and grab a dish towel, get it wet and put some dish soap on it.  Warm water and dish soap gets any mess out, right?  Run back outside and scrub Dolly's feathers as best I could.  Not a great job, but better than it was, I suppose.  And, the Mister only suffered a mildly bad scratch on his hand thanks to her vicious talons.  

Next Day
Feather update: Not a sticky smudge to be found.  Dolly was clean as a whistle and the other chickens in a pleasant sugar coma.   Lesson learned...don't let the chickens get anywhere near a fallen, toasted marshmallow.

Thanks for reading!

Heather

When Kale gets long in the tooth

Ever wondered what happens to kale if you don't pick it and eat it in the summer of 2013 and just let it chilax in the flower beds over winter until spring 2014?

Well, let me enlighten you.

I mean, it can't just be me who finds this curious and interesting, can it?

Anyone?  Interested in kale that's gone to seed?  Hello-oooo?

The Mister, in fact, hates my kale plant and threatens to destroy it on a daily basis.

Here's a close up of the leaves so you'll believe me that it's kale.

It grows incredibly tall and produces loads of petite, jaune fleurs (I am practicing my French).  Of course, now that I think about it, is French like Spanish where the adjective comes after the noun?  Hmmm....fleurs jaune?   Or maybe fleurs de jaune?  At any rate, loads of tiny, yellow flowers.  And guess who LOVES tiny yellow flowers...

Bees!

I think I have discovered how to help the bees that are in peril.  Plant lots of kale and let it go to seed. Bees are flocking to my kale flowers.  I mean, yes, it is a terribly ugly plant, and it is right next to my front porch so everybody has to beeline (haha) through a hoard of bees to get in my house, but, it's for the bees. Come on folks, let's do what needs to be done.

SAVE THE BEES!  NEGLECT YOUR KALE!

It's better than eating the kale, after all.

And now for the blowsy, show-offs of the flower bed...The Peonies.

The kale flowers feel a bit intimidated sitting so close to the peonies, but they have their righteous indignation that even though they might be plain, they're saving the bees and anyway, they like the comfort of their crocs and ponytails versus the 5 inch heels and fluff and spray the peonies have to maintain to look so fancy.

Thanks for reading!

Heather

I say Herb you say Erb

I really do say Herb with an H.

A-Because Martha Stewart says it like that and if anybody knows what they're talking about, it's her.

B-I do it facetiously because I know it is how the lads and lassies from Pride and Prejudice would say it.  I also say Sh-edule instead of sck-edule.  And pri (like pit) vacy instead of pri (like pie) vacy.

C-I don't really like the sound of this sentence though: Let me give you AN Herb.  But, at the same time, I don't like the sound of this sentence: Let me give you A Herb.

D-I guess that means if I ever need to tell somebody I'm giving them....a plant that makes food taste good, I'll have to say: I'm giving you an erb.

If you're thinking this post is about herbs, it is.  Sort of.  It's mostly about Mother's Day though.

Mother's Day this year started on Saturday because The Mister was going out of town on actual Mother's Day.

Mother's Day for me means gardening stuff.  In Utah you are admonished to NEVER EVER NEVER plant your veggies and fragile flowers before Mother's Day.

Everyone chose a special plant for me.  My Youngest, a yellow tomato.  The Mister, a Peanut plant and My Oldest, French Lavender.   It's fun because each one is uniquely them.  My Youngest loves tomatoes, the Mister is just fun and kind of weird and My Oldest loves anything French.  I am actually very excited about the peanut and plan on documenting it's existence here at the Hearth.

These are also what we got.  There's several tomatoes and peppers and herbs and tomatoes and a Brussels Sprout and an egg plant and...heck, I am not even sure what's all there.  I'm just happy it's gardening time. But as you notice none of these are in the ground yet.  Even though Mother's Day has passed...it's was still in the 30's last night.  So they have to bunk in the garage for a couple of days.  Today or tomorrow these'll get planted.

I drove The Mister to the airport at 7 am yesterday.  He does get a big fail for leaving me to my own defenses on this day that celebrates me sleeping in, eating bonbons in bed and not having to do the dishes a single time ALL DAY.

The one good thing about getting up this early on my day, though, was getting to a nice-ish restaurant for breakfast before the masses showed up.  It was actually our second choice as the first was already packed and had a line of people waiting in the rain.  Uhhhh, yeah, no matter how tasty your pancakes are, no way I am waiting in the cold rain for them.

The bad thing about getting up this early is....I cannot take a good photo for anything.

The Mister gave the girls a pile of money so they could pay for my breakfast and they thought they were pretty cool telling the waitress to give THEM the check.

After breakfast it was time for my girls to give me more gifts.  My Youngest made this cute ladybug garden rock (which she has since claimed as her own and refuses to let me put it in the garden) and this gorgeous unicorn for me.

As well as this.  What is it, you may ask?

It's an I-Spy piece of fabric she found/created.  She was so excited to point out all the mystery blotches and have me figure out what they were.

My Oldest wrote out this card listing the reasons in English why she loves me.  I love what kids come up with.  My favorite is that I tuck her in her cosy bed.  :)

And then this one en Francais.  Pour ma mere...For my Mother...ummmmm....fleurs.....something flowers.  Ummm....mon coeur...my heart....that's it.

And finally, a word I never thought I'd say.  Birkenstocks.  I mean, I remember in the late 80's when my Mom had the tragic double-strapped, classic style.  Hippy, not sexy.  But these ones....hippy sexy, maybe?

Happy Mother's Day (a day late) to all the mom's out there!

Thanks for reading!

Heather

Sunday, the day of rest...for Me

Just guess how much fun it is to fix a busted up fence.

If you're eight years old...LOTS!

If you're slightly older than eight and are actually responsible for the fixing of the fence...a lot less.

Like this, Dad?

No, hold it like this and you have to use the claw-y bit.  (He may or may not have called the claw-y bit, the claw-y bit.)

Put your back into it, kid.

Fixing fences is so much fun, huh, Daddy?

So much.  Less talk, more work.

Glad to see you wore appropriate footwear for hammering and nails and stuff. 

Thanks, Daddy!  I love to help.  And I love you, SO MUCH!

Aha!  I got you, you dirty...so and so.

(As a side note, this cute little thing has asked me many times to explain to her what swears are so she can not say them.  snicker.  I told her not to worry about it and if she ever says something that's a bad word, I'll be sure to let her know so she can avoid it in the future.)

Don't worry Daddy, I can knock this whole fence down BY MYSELF!  Just watch.

Uhhh, give me the hammer back.

This is the best day EVER!  When I grow up I want to be somebody who digs ditches for a living.

That's my girl.  I really teach my kids to reach for the stars.

If you're wondering what I am doing all this time?  Don't you worry your pretty little head a bit.  I was probably doing the most important work of all.

Here's a cool beverage for you, darling.  Stay hydrated out here, working in the hot sun while I enjoy my stories in the air conditioned house.

And I observed the work that was going on.  

And I offered, what I like to call "support". 

Are you suurrre you're supposed to take that bit down. 

Ummm....why's the fence looking so wonky?

Did you ask our neighbors, who I am sure are experts, if they're doing what you're doing.

Ummm, Heather?

Yes, snookums?

I have a most important job for you.  And I mean, THE most important job of the day.

Oh goody! Anything for you, dear.

Coke run.

My final thoughts on the day...

Well, the good news is, thanks to all this hard work, our neighbors big, mean dog will probably no longer be able to get half in my yard, scare my children and chickens half to death and try and romance Ginger.

Good work Husband and Daughter.  Good work.

Thanks for reading!

Heather

Shiver me Timbers

Ahoy me hearties!

Avast ye, weigh anchor, and hoist the mizzens.

Yo-ho-yo-ho a pirates life fer...

There is more, trust me.  Just type how to talk like a pirate and more info and pirate phrases than you ever wanted to know is at your finger tips.  I will try and restrain myself as much as possible.

But blow me down, this is my oldest's pirate quilt and I'm pleased as punch with it.  The colors are girly but the prints are not overly so.   Mostly just geometric or batiks.  The fabric is joyful and striking and I love the old timey atlas panels.  Plus, how fun are narwhals, mermaids and girl pirates?

This is one of the most balanced quilts I have made.  See, I am learning as I go and getting better (I hope) with every quilt I make.  There's quite a lot of white space to guide the eyes from image to image and an equal amount of prints to solids.  Every square on square block has a print and a solid, but the solids are always on the bottom to keep the eye moving in the right direction.  I used 3 different shades of solid purple to border the ship prints.  It makes it a little more interesting.  And, just look how cute it looks in her room with the lavender walls and wrought iron bed.  Gasp.  Love.

I designed this to have the three atlas panels going straight down the middle with fun blocks surrounding them.  The atlas panels are my favorite part of this quilt and it's perfect because My Oldest loves maps.  She will play with Google map and go all over the world, exploring.  We even tried the African Sahara....didn't work so well.

I was able to use a bunch of my gorgeous scraps for the half square triangles in the square in square blocks which I found to be tons of fun and a ginormous mess because I had to practically rip all my fabric off the shelves to look at it and then leave it in a heap while I sewed.  No time to tidy,  I'm crafting here.  The Mister practically died every time he looked in my room.

Then just don't look in when you're down here.

But, I have to walk past your dang blasted, pig sty of a craft room to get to my office.

Pshaw!  You can work at the kitchen table.  Let's be reasonable,  I cannot work like this!!!  I need to be free to create in chaos.  You have to love me for who I am.  Messy craft rooms/sweat pants and all.

Sigh.  Can you at least close the door?

Deal!

I loved mixing and matching my scrap prints to the solids I was using: pink, light blue and purple.  The dimensions for this quilt were actually designed around the square in square blocks.  Once I got the dimensions worked out for those, I figured everything else out from there.

This quilt took quite a long time to make.  1- Because the square in square blocks were quite time consuming because of all the bitty half square triangles and lots of cutting was involved.  2- I took my sweet time about it.  I had other things going on and so would get back to this one WHEN I GET TO IT!  (I may have gotten pestered a time or two about getting a move on)  3-  It's BIG with a lot of blocks.  Things like this take time.  4-  I hand quilted it, which I really enjoyed.  The fabric is so soft and pretty that I was glad I really got to play with it a lot.

I used the fabric collection: Out to Sea by Michael Miller

It's still available and if you are interested in how to make this quilt, shoot me a comment and I'll get back to you with destructions.

Thanks for stopping by ye bilge rats.  Sorry.  I don't really think you're bilge rats.  Love ya.

Heather

Thanks, Chickens.

There is a lot of good that comes with having chickens.

I get gorgeous, high-quality eggs every single day in a rainbow of colors.  I know my chickens roam around, peck the ground and eat all kinds of creepy crawlies that strengthen the healthful qualities of their eggs.  I get the pleasure of watching them wander around, pecking and babbling to each other.  Watch them as they race across the yard at full speed, wings splayed, to chest butt anyone in their way.

Buuuttttt....there are some drawbacks.

If you have chickens, they will dig and scratch and make a complete disaster of your yard.  This is just part of the mess they have made.  Rocks and ground cover all over the lawn instead of where they should be, in the flower beds and borders. Thanks, chickens.

Side rant.  Do you see all the raspberries that are deciding my grass is the perfect place to spread? Yeah....not awesome.  Couldn't they spread in the flower beds where I would appreciate them?  Guess once we put all the rocks and bark back, we'll mow them down and see what happens.  Thanks, raspberries.

Back to original rant...

sigh

My gooseberry bush.  Pecked to bare branches.  Only bits of green left. If you'll notice I am trying (unsuccessfully, I might add) to keep the chickens away.  The tomato cage, T-Ball stand and one of Ginger's bowls haven't exactly turned out to be the super good gooseberry bush protectors I was hoping for.  At least they've stopped them from digging and exposing the roots.  Thanks, Chickens.

This is my hope of harvest, this bit of green.  Think I'll get a handful of berries?  Luckily the thorns are growing and maybe that will deter them.

To try and change their taste buds, I ripped off a handful of tarragon and tossed it in.  

Yay!  Snacks!!  

Wait....what the hell is this?

Come on chickens, eat the tarragon!!  You can eat all of it!  I grow it for you.

Whatever, we're totes out of here!  Come back when you've brought us some bits of ham and cucumber shavings.

Thanks, Heather!

Oh yeah, well, right back at you, thanks, Chickens!

Heather

Deers are Very Versatile

My house is being over-run by deers.  And yes, I know deer is the plural, but I like calling them deers.  More fun.

Pretty pillow.

On my Deer Quilt I used multiple strips of fabric for the deer head.  I love the look.

But, sometimes simple is preferred.  I can get this pillow sewn up in an hour, lickity split, using just one fabric for the deer.  Perfect to give as a gift.

I love deer for two reasons...at least.  I am sure I love them for more, but here's two reasons why I love them.

1.  My sister and I have a game called the Dead Deer Game...Don't judge.  I am from the foothills in deer country and if you don't hit a deer in the twilight, sometime in your life, you can't call yourself a Utahn.  So the game is this:  You watch for any sign of a dead deer on the side of the road or in the brush.  You call it by hollering: "Dead Deer!!!"  And you keep track of how many dead deer you see in a season.  Dead deer season goes from about November to March.

The kicker is, if you call, oh, let's say a piece of carpet, then you have to deduct two dead deer points from your tally.  You've got to keep an eagle eye.  It's tricky because you'd be surprised how many bushes look like dead deer.   How many discarded chairs look like dead deer.  How many mounds of just dirt look like dead deer.  And if, say, you accidentally call a dead coyote thinking it's a dead deer....minus two points. And, you can only call a deer once.  So, you have to keep careful track of which dead deer you have called and make sure to inform your sister that she CANNOT call the dead deer on the off ramp to Mom's house because, well, you already did. 

Oh yes, one more thing....stray dogs count as a dead deer.  But it has to be an actual stray dog and not a dog simply walking a few steps in front of its owner.  Again, if you call a stray dog and isn't a stray....minus two...well I think you get the idea.

2.  I grew up in deer country.   It is not unusual for a gazillion deer to be where you are.  I can remember one frosty, moon-lit night I was driving home at an unmentionably late hour and there was a herd of at least a couple hundred deer on the road and in the fields I was driving through.  It was so magical, I stopped and simply enjoyed the beauty of nature...until some jack-A honked at me to move.  

My children will have memories of being at Grandma's house, somebody shouting DEER, running to the windows and watching several deer, including fawns, wander through the yard on their way to greener pastures.  Oh and of having to watch where you step because of the pellets they leave behind.  Thanks, deer.

3.  I figured out a third reason why I like deer...sort of.  In the town I grew up in, they actually made it legal to hunt deer inside the city limits with bow and arrow.  Oh yeah!!  I can just envision the hunters now, tracking bucks between the picket fences and swing sets all decked out in their camo.  Good times.

Thanks for reading!

Heather