It means alot to me (Warm fuzzies for all) Well i went to my first seminar chat last night and it was good. I have a ask questions and look stupid issue that I am trying to work threw but I think I just may. Luckily the coursework so far seems pretty basic so I have no immediate fear of screwing up lol Paul covered bedtime duty, and the two oldest took dishes and dinner so that worked out well. The only problem was Thalia missed me.  Yes, I know...class was an hour lol I was trying to read the chat and kept hearing "But I want my Mommy!" So maybe the hour "seperation" will be good for her. She goes off to school next year and it never dawned on me until last night just how attached she is to me...five years of pretty much 24/7 contact I guess I should have seen it coming. When I came out she ran at me with a whoop "MOMMY! I missed you sooooooo soooooo really much!"

LOL 5 year olds are GREAT for the ego!

So, it has long been a standing family joke that "Mommy doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up" I was piddling on the laptop a few weeks ago when the "I wanna be a rock star...I wanna be a cow girl..." conversation started up. Well, as usual as it went around the room they get to me and say "Let's guess...a mom and all your dreams have come true!"

"No," I said quietly, "I want to develop and manage websites. Own my own buisness and specilize in pagan buisnesses."

You could have heard a pin drop...I was afraid to look at my husband who i hadn't discussed this with. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked into his eyes..."well ok...how are we going to do this?" and the entire family commenced to planning. I was so touched all I could do was tear up and answer direct questions. We decided a brick and mortar school was impossible due to my med. issues (walking is not always reliable) and the fact that time away from running the house is premium. I had already looked into Kaplan online and found it to be legite...and had already spoken to an admissions adviser.  I dumped this on my family...

my oldest son promptly said "OK Chrissy can you take supper duty on one day and I'll get those dishes and the next day we can switch it around"

"Sure, Mikayla can you watch Thalia on those night?"

"No problem if Jacob can cover my chores??"

"Sure my chores are the easiest any way..."

"And i'll just be quiet!" Said Thalia

I was speachless, all i could say was "I am so truly blessed"

to which I got a

"God mommy...what did you expect?" (the 14 year old)

"Really! You quit collage twice for us!" (the 15 year old)

"Besides you loaned us your tummy!" (the five year old)

"And your a great cook when your happy" (the 10 year old)

"we love you Mommy" *hug* (my little witchling age 12)

My husband knows that when I am speechless...as loud as I am..that I am particularly emotional so he felt the need to lighten the mood...

"Besides" he said with a leer "Your GREAT in bed!"

(those who were not making wretching sounds were groaning lol)

So, I am finally registered, got my first weeks projects complete and am awaiting seminar at 7 p.m. tonight...And the nerves are setting in nice and tight lol

I do not know if I have mentioned the pet chickens...technically they are my youngest sons pets and are of course the only pets NOT housed indoors. 

 So here is how the pet chicken story came about:

My husband and i have always wanted to farm so Last year I ordered 32 chickens 3 buff cochins, 28 barred rocks, and one freebie chick from the hatchery. The Rocks were straight run (both hens and roosters) with 9 hens the rest roos they were for laying and eating. The cochins were one roo and 2 hens, these were just for fun and to use as broodies as a cochin hen will brood pretty much ANY egg laid under her. I loved the cochins and I loved the BR hens...I only let myself get close to one roo...the one we planned on keeping for breeding. Well, a week after I moved them from the brooding pen to the coop my late dog Fritz, broke into the coop in 2 seconds flat killing all but 11 chickens including all the cochins and all but 2 hens...the massecare lasted all of 5 minutes, no joke...I was furious, with him for not obeying the stop command, at my husband for a shoddy building job and at myself for not finding the one weak spot in the coop. Well, time went on and the roosters got their crow on, so we knew the time for butchering had come. That was HORRIFIC...never let anyone tell you it isn't just as tramatic for you as it is for the chickens. Actually worse I think because they were calm hanging from the line, no flapping or squacking which I had expected. their part was over quickly, I however had nightmares for months after and was never able to eat the meat...noone was...we ended up giving the meat to my mother in law. 

Well, I was told if you keep 2 roosters of equal size and temperment there usually isn't a problem. Untrue. I kept Captain Morgan and Dinnerplate. (so named because up until he backed fritz off of the only 2 remaining hens thats was where he was heading...dont blame me...i didnt do it the 15 year old did lol) Equals in everyway...jacob went down one morning to find the crime scene of a murder/ suicide...we are unsure who actually won the fight only that we were now down to 2 hens who ran frantic right into Jacobs arms clucking pitifully telling him the whole horrifying story. From the moment they adopted him as the new Roo, my 10 year old claimed them as pets. Which is rather cool actually as these pets lay yummy eggs lol. Seriously these 2 hens gve us about a dozen a week...not a bad haul. So, jacob has decided he wants some more girls, and maybe a rooster for babies. He is going out of his way to let it be known these are pets not food...as if we would make THAT mistake again! He is branching out to different types, more cochins (mostly for me I think because honestly my 3 cochins were the sweetest things I had ever met) he wants Black Giants because a chicken the size of a medium size dog is cool to a 10 year old lol Brahmas, more rocks, Araucanas because hey! blue and green eggs also cool, Orpingtons, Australorps, rode island reds, Babcock White Leghorns for their beauty and maybe a couple other breeds as he decides. I figure any 10 year ol who comes home, cleans a coop each day feeds and waters his chickens then does his homework in to coop so his body heat will warm it up has definately earned the right to choose a varity he likes.

So, this got me thinking. I love the farming, every aspect of it, except the killing. Something in me is simply not wired to be able to take a life for food. I can eat meat I havent killed but not a life I have taken. Hypocritical I know but I can't shake it. But hey! what about bloodless farming? Eating unfertile eggs isnt murder...life was never a possibility, true? Goats for soap, milk and cheese would work as a goat will produce milk long past a kids needing period with few negatives for the momma...surely I can work that out? Rabbits for fiber may be fun..I have always loved dying and would love to learn to spin...thats farming right? I love egg painting so maybe a og proof duck pond...mmmm...this bloodless farming may just work...

I want to start with an explanation of this post a little bit.  I spent the better half of my teen years living in covington ky. In covington in my day high school students road the city bus to school (I am unsure if it is still so)I lived on bakewell and I caught my bus on madison ave. I remember walking threw the underpasses in the winter months past several homeless people.  Because of my AP biology schedule I was out of the house walking threw covington by 6 a.m....and in the winter months that time is still nicely dark.  While walking just after winter break my sophmore year a young man grabbed my elbow and asked me for a ciggerette, startled I fumbled in my purse and handed him a marboro light and offered my lighter. I do not know if I can explain this...he wasn't overtly threatening but he was in my space so tightly I was forced to take several retreating steps, to late I saw I was heading for the underpass and for the first time it's cold darkness scared me.  I thought about making a break for it but the man still had my elbow, though he was making small talk I still felt threatened.

"That's 'nuff boy" I heard a gravly vocie say. From beneath a pile of newspapers rose a little man, his brown wrinkling face the most beautifull sight I had ever seen. I can't tell you how relieved his small but powerfull presence was. A few other faces popped up around the underpass and it didn't take the young man long to realize he was not going to be left in peace so he tossed my lighter onto the ground and strolled off. I think I would have sagged were it not for the wet graffitied wall of the underpass. My rescuer patted me awkwardly on the head "Come on little girl lets get you to your bus stop. I am Johnny J the here is George." I nodded to one of the men who had stood up who flashed me a grin so toothlessly gentle and warm I had to smile back. "I am Tonya" I suprised them and offered each man my hand. I found out later they watched me and 2 other girls who walked "Their route" to catch the bus or get to work. we made them nervous...good girls out in the dark and all that lol I got a lecture on remaining alert and was informed it was ok to kick, scream, be rude and say no when asked for help by people I felt were threatening.  Geiorge or Johnny J (Always Johnny J Never John, Johnny or JJ lol) walked me to the bus after that.  I would sneak them left overs from supper the night before or blankets and clothes my father had delegated to the basement. George wasn't intelligent in the conventional sense but he was always warm and friendly and looked out for Johnny J who's stint in veitnam left him broken in places. Sometimes Johnny J would forget simple things...like where he was and what era. But to my knowledge neither were ever violent.

the summer of my senior year I was put into foster care and moved to the county I now live in. Later I found out from a friend that both Johnny J and George had passed away that winter.

So that is my long story explaination. Now, there is a point. I found a site that gives directions on making "Ugly Quilts" for the homeless.  They are called "Ugly Quilts" because the are for function not beauty....noone expects the people making them to be seamstresses and virtually anyone can make one.  Again, there is a point, lol. I am hoping to get a group of northern kentucky pagans together for a quilting group. Can't or won't sew? can ya work scissors? that works too! You can cut blocks for others to sew. This is an idea and not yet a reality, but if there are any NKY pagans interested please let me know :D I am not sure if many know this as the story was pretty much buried, but the only emergency cold weather shelter in nky was shut down last march and covington used that opportunity to rezone making it illeaagal to open any more like it within city limits. Those men who possibly saved my life? I feel like their memory and deed has been betrayed by covingtons lawmakers. But that is another rant altogether. My point here is without a shelter the most the current soup kitchens can do is hand out hats and gloves when the temperatures drop. I would like to honor the memory of my friends and give them blankets to offer as well.  Thank you for your time, I know this post was absurdly long!

Please check out the ugly quilt pattern

http://www.reese.org/sharon/uglyqult.htm

and if you think you would like to help let me know  :D

This is a picture from an article called "The Rescuing Hug." The article details the first week of life of a set of twins.

Kyrie and Brielle Jackson were born on 17 October 1995 at the Massachusetts Memorial Hospital in Worcester, MA. Each of the twins weighed all of two pounds at birth. Though Kyrie was putting on a bit of weight in the days following her arrival, Brielle was not doing as well. She cried a great deal, leaving her gasping and blue-faced.



Brielle was having a particularly bad day. NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) nurse Gayle Kasparian tried everything to calm her. She held her. She had her dad hold her. She wrapped her in a blanket. She suctioned her nose. Nothing worked.



Then, she remembered hearing about a procedure done in Europe. She put Brielle in the incubator with her sister Kyrie. Almost immediately, Brielle snuggled up to Kyrie. Her blood-oxygen saturation levels, which had been frighteningly low, soared. She began to breathe more easily. The frantic crying stopped and her normal pinkish color quickly returned. Over the next weeks, her health improved steadily in her new, less lonely quarters.



The children survived their rocky beginning and in time went home with their parents. When last heard from, Brielle and Kyrie were healthy preschoolers.