Stripling Warriors' Mom: Hens in the barnyard

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Just me and da Chickens--

White Chickens, produce white eggs

Rock chick produce brown eggs

This week I am solo while Aaron, Candice and the chillin's are on vacation. I have learned quite a lot about taking care of their newly acquired five hens and a "midget" rooster. The next door neighbors had the chickens and moved away.

That left them for new ownership as they moved and Aaron bought a newly constructed hen house. Then, the new next door neighbors have chickens of their own, about six times what we had, besides a couple more roosters. They also have a gaggle of geese. The geese like to honk and quack whenever someone come close to their fence. The geese are so funny and like to make a lot of noise, that is for sure.

I don't have any photos of the geese. My camera is temporarily missing, so have no way to take a few candid shots of the geese, roosters and chickens.

It is so much nicer to have fresh laid eggs,and eat them right from the nest, practically. The chickens are fairly descent and that makes it so much easier too.

I recall that one of my aunts (Chelo's people) had chickens in San Antonio. I would go with Bessie to the hen house and I think we helped gather eggs. That is my earliest recollection with chickens.

Power to Act in God's Name

I believe and know very strongly that, " A man, young or old never stands taller than when he is doing his priesthood duties or responsibilities. Be it station as a Deacon, Teacher, Priest, Elder, High Priest, Home teacher, priesthood holder husband, father, son or grandfather, Bishop, or Prophet of God. He has a mantle about him that emanates and gives him the authority to act in God's name, and uses it in righteousness. It is a blessing to him and his family. To this I know that he raises the bar in doing his duty to God and his fellow man.”

" I stand in awe of the goodness that pervades within that soul who honors and lives up to his priesthood calling with a pure heart. It is evident to me and cannot be hidden. I believe that quality shines in their countenances and His image is radiated in their face's.

Insights by Anna 11.22.09

Touch of The Master's Hand

And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
" It was battered and scarred,
Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch