Litter-ally Disgusted

We live a half mile from the corner.

Just a half mile.  It's not far.  

The kids and I decided to take a walk down the road to get a little exercise and enjoy the sunny afternoon.

We brought along a garbage bag to pick up some litter.


Can you believe we filled a 30-gallon black plastic garbage bag to the very, bursting top BEFORE we got halfway back?

People are pigs.

No, nevermind.  I'd hate to insult pigs.

Some people are just nasty and disrespectful and lazy.  GRRR.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

Hey, it's St. Patty's Day!  Luck o' the Irish to you!

I've gathered up a few Irish tidbits for your enjoyment.  The website I took them from--Ireland Fun Facts--calls them facts.  Not accusing anyone, of course, but the Irish have been known to embellish once in awhile, especially when telling a story.  And I'm simply too lazy to verify.  (Now there's the real truth of the matter!) 

Truth or not, they're fun to read through...and fun is one thing all Irish men and women can agree on.  Enjoy!

According to some historians, over 40% of all American presidents have had some Irish ancestry.

In olden days, a pig was often allowed to live in the house with the family on an Irish farm. He (or she) was commonly referred to as "the gentleman who pays the rent."

Saint Brendan is said to have discovered America 1,000 years before Columbus.

The longest place name in Ireland is Muckanaghederdauhaulia, in County Galway.

The original Guinness Brewery in Dublin has a 9,000 year lease on it's property, at a perpetual rate of 45 Irish pounds per year.

One traditional Irish cure for a hangover was to be buried up to the neck in moist river sand.

Historians believe St. Patrick’s real name was "Maewyn Succat.

The tune of the "Star Spangled Banner" was composed by the great blind harper Turlough O’Carolan, who died about 35 years before the American revolution.

Ireland is the world’s only country with a musical instrument for a national symbol: the harp.

An “An Fáinne” is a lapel pin, worn by some fluent Irish speakers to invite others to speak to them in the traditional language.

It’s not the custom in Ireland to wear green ties, hats or other green clothes on St. Patrick's Day. A sprig of shamrock in the coat lapel is the preferred display.

Now a few quotes from some famous Irishmen:

"The Irish do not want anyone to wish them well; they want everyone to wish their enemies ill."

- Harold Nicolson

"I had that stubborn streak, the Irish in me I guess."

- Gregory Peck

"Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity."

- Sean O'Casey

"Everywhere I go I'm asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. There's many a best-seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher."

- Flannery O'Connor

"You know it's summer in Ireland when the rain gets warmer."

- Hal Roach

"Ireland, sir, for good or evil, is like no other place under heaven, and no man can touch its sod or breathe its air without becoming better or worse."

- George Bernard Shaw

And my personal favorite:

"This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever."

- Sigmund Freud (speaking about the Irish)

Finally, an Irish blessing or two...

Wishing you a rainbow

For sunlight after showers—

Miles and miles of Irish smiles

For golden happy hours—

Shamrocks at your doorway

For luck and laughter too,

And a host of friends that never ends

Each day your whole life through

Wherever you go and whatever you do, May the luck of the Irish be there with you. 

Happy St. Patrick's Day!  And Happy Birthday, Laura!

Five Years...

...is a long time.

Miss ya, Dad.

Mystery in the Hen House

Last night I walked out to the hen house aka milking barn (that sound you just heard is Grandpa turning in his grave, RIP) to collect the eggs. This is a nightly chore, very routine.

At the same time, I brought out the newly-cartoned-eggs from last night to put in the fridge for sale. I'm efficient like that.

Point is, I could see--even before I added the newest 2 dozen eggs to the fridge--that we had another 4 dozen there waiting for our customers. In other words, we had plenty of eggs in the fridge.

With my trusty egg basket in hand, I first closed the sliding barn door to keep out any and all chicken-eating-critters and then proceeded to the nests to collect the eggs. To where I found nothing.

NOTHING!

Not an empty shell or two, not a few eggs hidden under the bedding, not one single egg.

What the....???

We've had egg problems in the past and usually the culprit is her:

Or her:

Or her:

Egg-eating chickens are extremely problematic because we're not able to hang in the barn all day keeping a watchful eye on the flock to see which one is the guilty party. It usually takes more than a week to find out which one is eating the eggs, severely cutting in to our egg supply, and it also usually doesn't end well for the poor hen.

*insert moment of silence here*

But usually an egg-eating-chicken will get full, she'll leave a few eggs behind, and the remaining eggs tell the story, as they're completely mucked up and covered in egg yolk/nest litter/stuck feathers.

Through the years, we've found a few other problematic animals in the hen house. These characters could very well develop taste for farm-fresh eggs, especially after a long, cold winter. And they can be problematic in more ways than one, as you'll quickly agree with me.

The culprits I'm talking about could be him:

Or her:

Other problematic animals exist as well, but are less-likely for obvious reasons.

I'm talking about her,

seeing as we don't have hyenas in Irish Grove.

Or him,

seeing as the time of year seems a bit wrong.

Which leads me to wonder if we might have a problem with another type of animal.

A two-legged.

Someone that looks suspiciously like her:

And yet I'm not convinced. If a two-legged were to steal eggs, wouldn't they just grab some out of the fridge? I can't imagine why they'd enter the barn to collect eggs when there were 4 dozen sitting in the fridge.

So we obviously have a problem. A head-scratcher. A real noggin-cracker. What we have here is a Mystery in the Hen House.