Which Came First?

I've done it again.  My insatiable curiosity has my husband giving me the "are you crazy, of course you are" stare.  I've got thirteen eggs in a popcorn machine in my kitchen.  

So, I've got to tell you how this all got started.  Last Friday night, Aine's bestest, bestest buddy, Ada, accompanied us to a Charles Darwin party at DISCO, a local writing workshop and community center.  The party turned into a sleepover.  Saturday, the girls went out to see the chickens and came back with an egg they were cradling, saying they wanted to hatch it.  Due to the fact that we have a rooster, this wasn't as preposterous as it may seem.  After several hours of them putting microwaveable heat packs in a box with the egg and towels, I suggested we research a less labor-intensive method.  

We looked at several websites.  While there were a multitude of different techniques and contraptions, the basic common factors were - keep around 100 F, turn them 2-4 times per day, keep the humidity up in the incubator to prevent drying.  That's all.  Hmmmmm, I looked around and saw, eureka!!!!  A popcorn machine with a heat lamp was just sitting there, waiting.

Doesn't everyone have a popcorn machine - chicken incubator in their kitchen?

A few adjustments (like taking the popping kettle out and putting an extra light and thermometer in) and it seemed like it just might work.  The girls added as many eggs as they could find (I hadn't collected them in a few days) and a couple of wet sponges for humidity.

Optimum temp is around 100 degrees F.  I've been jostling with the
door to try and keep it in a proper range.

Giant glass windows are perfect for keeping an eye on the temp,
as well as simply gazing in wonder!

 The kids proceeded to brainstorm a list of possible names for all of the eggs they were sure would hatch.  I told them that not all of the eggs may be fertilized, that the temperature might get too hot or they may get too dry, but that we'd try our best.  I reassured them that if this attempt doesn't work, we can keep at it until it does!

Of course they need names.  My favorites are Chixi, Darwin and  Butter.

So we (I) have been turning the eggs and keeping the little chart of dates and turnings updated. Some of our chicken research led us to believe that as soon as day 4, we could "candle" or shine a bright light through the eggs to see if they were developing.  Today was day 4.  Mag Light with fresh batteries, dark landing of the basement and clipboard were made ready.  Each little egg was inscribed (with a pencil) with a numeral 1-13.  We held each one up to the light, peering and straining and guessing if we saw something or not.  Several of them were "maybes" because some of the dark brown shells are so thick that almost no light passed through.  But on lucky number 13, after my little students had retired to the kitchen, I saw this: 

(photo credit to UC Davis online.)

Woo Hoo!  No mistaking the little branching of blood vessels swaying to and fro like seaweed beneath the shell.  Wow!  Part of me thought it might not work at all.  But we definitely have at least one, and probably a few more chicks growing.....in a popcorn machine......in my kitchen.  

Aine summed the day up best when she looked up from the egg and flashlight and said, "Now THIS is science!"

This is a video of Aine and Ada placing the eggs in the incubator on the first day.  Notice the little "happy dance" at the end.

Good night little eggs.

CommUNITY

There are times when blogging about everyday things seems trite, like right now.  Today wasn't every day.

I'm still processing the afternoon, feeling I may have been witness to something big that will ripple through the city, bringing love and understanding.

Darrell called together a group of young, diverse community leaders to brainstorm about how to bring a unified Birmingham into the future.  Lots of topics arose - education, class, race, city and state government.  Plans were made, talents and resources were offered.

But best of all, open-minded and intelligent people sat and exchanged stories, experiences, ideas, all without raising a voice or calling a name.  No "us against them" or "you people."

We all want the same things, don't we?  Security, meaningful connections, freedom to pursue our interests and passions, an accepting place to call home.

Whatever comes of it, big or small, no attempt at understanding another person goes unrewarded.  Try it.  Ask someone different from you about their experience.  Then listen.  You'll learn something about them and also about yourself.

The State of Our Union

Family and friends, fellow Americans, Birminghamians and Crestwoodians - The State of Our Union has never been stronger.  In the areas of economy, physical and mental health, education, domestic and foreign affairs, we are reaching and or exceeding our goals.  While we cannot conquer all areas of development at once, there are several points of focus for the coming year.  

 Believing in the individuality of students, we are launching an education initiative by which students will be able to plot their own course and rate of advancement by choosing topics that interest them to meet state and national standards of education.  

In the interest of improving health and lowering potential future healthcare costs, we are launching an initiative to walk and ride our bicycles whenever possible for recreation and well as commercial purposes.  

Believing in the values of self-sufficiency, environmental health, good nutrition and fiscal responsibility, we will be growing more food for our personal consumption this year than in any years past, including raising chickens for eggs.  Efforts will be made to share and trade produce with other hard-working neighbors and those in need.  

Efforts in domestic affairs are highlighted by Darrell's launching CommUNITY, a group of a diverse, young, local leaders and community planners who will talk openly about the challenges of living in a city with a divided past.  Together, they will listen to and respond to the needs of our Birmingham brothers and sisters as we celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Civil Rights Movement and move forward with hope into the next 50 years. 

We know that we don't have all the answers, but gain strength in the knowledge that our community, a real community of people who care for each other will keep us moving forward, without fear, into the future.  Thank you and may the deity or spiritual practice you gain direction from grant you wisdom in your own personal journey for meaning.

Last Summer's Salad

I'm so missing my garden now.  I had a small plot of bok choy, greens, onions and broccoli.  The chickens pecked it half down on the day of their coop makeover.  They were on walk about for a bit while the new roof went on.  

Time to get planting!

                                                            

Fun At the Park!

Today was just too gorgeous to not get out and enjoy the city!  Aine had an invitation to play with a friend this afternoon, so Darrell and I took Jacques to Railroad Park.  He chose to bring his bike and I picked up my new, custom made hula hoop I recently purchased from fellow Crestwoodian, Nichelle Hoskins.  While Jacques played on the playground, I got some muscle toning in.  There were a few funny comments about how I could multi-task by talking on the phone (with my brother, Grant) and hoop at the same time.  I think I set a new personal record of about 25 minutes, but something tells me I'm gonna feel that in the morning.  

No T.V.

I'm not sure when Darrell and I effectively stopped watching television.  I think it had something to do with him getting more involved in community planning and working late.  I'm usually doing something with the kids, housework or errands, so I don't watch t.v. either.  

In the evenings, after Darrell comes home from work, eats dinner, reads to the kids and puts them to bed, we talk with each other.  Every day brings new topics, events, recounting the day's ups and downs, or funny anecdotes from friends on Facebook.  It's not a constant banter between us, but the open "space" of no frenetic programming to take our attention away means that our minds are available.  I have come to cherish these conversations with him and wouldn't trade them for all of the shows on t.v.

Grandmommy

This photo is from last summer when we went to Delaware to visit my Dad's mother, Grandmommy.  While we were there, she suffered a series of medical situations that eventually caused a move to a nursing facility.  This post tonight, if for no other reason, is to remind myself to call, write, and most importantly, plan a visit, soon, to see her again.  The older I get, the more precious these connections to my family and past are.  My father passed away when I was twenty-six years old.  Grandmommy is a living link to my Dad.  We don't know how long we'll be blessed with her here, but I've got to take these opportunities while I can.

This Man

This man.  Human.  Lover.  Father.  Brother.  Son.  Neighbor.  Seeker.  Helper.  Friend.

This man is the person I start and end every day with, hopefully, until the day I die.  

Learning from and being challenged by him, partnering with, and evolving with him every day has been the most amazing journey.  A journey I'm on for the long, hopeful haul.

Pictures With Maw Maw

We went down to visit Darrell's parents in early January.  Part of our tradition is getting some snapshots with Maw Maw.  There's always a hesitation.  Is everyone wearing the right clothes?  Is their hair brushed?  Weather, lighting, etc. etc. etc.  But I've learned to listen to the little voice in my head (which is usually benevolent) that says, "Now.  If not now, then never."  So I tossed them out on the porch after church and these are the raw shots.  

Grumpy Cat?

Sirens

9:38 p.m.  text from Darrell - "I'm leaving(work)."

I read the text and continue watching dvr of the Super Bowl.  I had paused the game while putting the kids to bed.

9:58 p.m.  Familiar sound of sirens traveling down 56th St. toward the boulevard. Look out the window to see it's an ambulance.  I check the time on the family wall clock, check the time of the text.  I calculate the distance, time, how long until he should be here.  Buffer in time for him going down the elevator of his building, putting on a jacket, traffic lights.  Send a quick text back - "I love you.  Travel safely."

10:00 p.m.  Start the shrimp and mushroom dinner I've been waiting to cook until he was on his way.  It tastes better fresh and I like to eat with him, discussing the events of the day.  I look out the kitchen window every thirty seconds or so.  Do I see his bike lights coming up the hill?  Do I hear someone?

10:10 p.m.  Rattling of door keys.  Sigh.  A big kiss on a cold cheek and I tell him, "It's so nice to see you."  

I hear sirens often.  The only time they bother me is between the text, "I'm on my way," and the comforting sounds of the back door being unlocked. 

Before you start thinking I'm a paranoid person, here's a bit of back story.  A year and a half ago, I received a phone call.  It went something like this.  "Hello?  Is this Mrs. O'Quinn?"  No one EVER calls me that.  "I'm here with your husband.  He's been in an accident."  I stop breathing.  "He's okay, but ....."  My mind is racing.  If you ever doubt the speed of the human brain, try getting a call like this and see how many scenarios you can go through in the space of the caller taking a breath.  Is anything broken?  Can he walk?  Is he bleeding?  Is he conscious?  Is he in pain?  Will he need surgery?  Why can't he talk to me?  Why didn't he call me?  All of these "Are you Mrs. ....." calls start with a sugar-coated "There's been an accident."

I gathered, as best I could, the location of the accident, told the kids we needed to go pick up Daddy because he had fallen off his bike, then proceeded to lose my mind as I drove in circles in the vicinity of where I thought he was.  When I finally arrived (after trying to call back the anonymous helper and getting a wrong number) I felt like I would collapse.  He was calmly sitting on the curb, drinking some water.  I could have broken his ribs, as hard as I hugged him.  I guess he could see how distraught I was and reassured me over and over, "I'm okay.  Really, I'm fine."   He had a gash under his chin, marks on his head from where his helmet had saved him, and a bike shoe buckle smashed to his foot so that we had to rip it off.  The guy who hit him had been out late, turned left in front of Darrell from a no-turn lane and didn't even see him until he was catapulted completely over the hood of the car.

Luckily, some glue and and a negative CAT scan were all he needed to get out of the E.R.  

Darrell choosing to commute by bike and ride recreationally on the weekends is a risk we take.  The benefits are multi-fold.  He's in the best physical and mental shape of his life.  He's saving money on gas, car, car maintenance and parking.  He's doing his part for cleaner air.  He's happy.

But....... whenever I hear a siren, I always check the last text..... and check the clock...... and watch the door.

Remembering Summer

It's been a strange winter.  Spring and summer-like days mixed with really cold days.  Here are a few of my shots from a warmer time.  The first close-up nature shots I saw were my Dad's.  Now I follow the work of local photographer, Larry O. Gay and am inspired by his work to do more. https://www.facebook.com/larry.o.gay

Coffee

 

 

I love coffee.  So much so that when I went camping last fall in a primitive campground, I brought my French press.  I set it up the night before, kettle of water on the grill, kindling ready to light to heat that water.  I don't drink a lot, but that cup in the morning is a sacred thing.