My husband always says that you plan plans—you don’t plan results. Today, as on many other days, he was proven right. My schedule involved a set of papers that needed to be graded, an editorial project that needed work, and a couple of errands, in addition to all the regular things. It started off nicely. Porch grading, coffee, motivational knitting:
Happy mail:
Say hello to Miss Babs Yowza! Whatta Skein! in the “Perfectly Wreckless” colorway. Is it gorgeous, or what? I blame the purchase on Cari. She’s behind of lot of my craziness. But more on that another time.
I was planning to wrap up the day much as I did yesterday, with more sock knitting:
And a pretty sunset:
But our hen Eudora got sick. We’ve had chickens for just over a year, and they are one of the happiest things in my life. Chickens equal instant zen. Especially Eudora. Here she is as a baby, navigating the perch for the first time:
She’s named after Eudora Welty, one of my favorite authors, and from day one, she’s been the most outgoing, loving, interesting creature you’d ever want to meet. She’s not the head hen. Nor is she the least hen. She’s her own hen. And she’s wonderful.
Well, something happened today, and one of her eggs broke before she’d hatched it. About half of it was hatched, and the rest wasn’t. And she clearly didn’t feel well. I started calling vets, but no one would see a chicken. I looked online, and the predictions were all dire. In the end I extracted the rest of the broken egg myself, and thankfully, through a friend, was able to find a vet who would at least prescribe an antibiotic. Said antibiotic has been administered, and Eudora seems to be a little better than she did earlier. Despite the never-to-be-broken, “no chickens in the house” rule, she’s asleep in the downstairs bathroom. Please send good thoughts. Here we are under the heat lamp a few hours after the “procedure.”
The worst downpour of the year took place as we were trying to get from coop to house. Hence our bad hair.
Sending love to both you and Eudora. It’s amazing how the little feathered and furred ones, as well as the cold-blooded critters can wrap themselves up in our hearts. <3
Oh Melinda, how terrible! I can’t imagine how hard it would be to see her hurt and not find anyone willing to help! I hope she is doing better this morning! I am thinking of you!
She’s better! I worried about her all knight but resisted the urge to go down and look in on her, knowing I’d have to wake her up to be able to tell anything. This morning when I went in, she was standing up and looking around–alert and strong. One of the things that worried me yesterday was that she wouldn’t walk. Well, she’s walking and eating and talking today. We did the antibiotic, and now she’s back out with her girls and seems to be doing all the normal things. I don’t think we’re completely out of the woods, but things are looking way up! Thank you both so much for the good thoughts. XXXO