One in every family...

I've been told that there is one, how shall I say this, "Pistol Pete" in every family.  

Well, ours is a "Pistol Penelope" aka Zoe.

She is by far the most challenging of all three of my girls.   She has the worse sleeping habits.  She knew about sugar long before either of my other two did.  (Occasionally, when I say "Zoe what shall we have for lunch, she will answer:  Ummm, chocat (choclate)"  The other two look at her astonished that she would be so bold to ask for such a thing!  She learned to talk way too early.   Or in other words, she learned to say "Neva! (Never)" entirely too soon and in the wrong context.  The girls taught her all sorts of tricks as soon as she could walk, such as:  getting on the top bunk bed-without the ladder, getting the bar stools and getting things up high, and learning to say "Peeeaaasseee Papa" in a voice that is entirely too precious and manipulative.  Shall I go on?  Nah, I think you all know what I'm talking about.  

The other two did this sort of thing, but not to the degree that Zoe does.  I know when I don't see her for a minute or two I should find her-quickly.   

Oh yes, did I fail to mention that she doesn't like wearing clothes and she does like wearing two different shoes which are typically not her own.  I will say that it has become such an issue a couple of times that we went to church without shoes at all.  And for those of you who are wondering about the clothes issue and church.  Yes, I have looked down to see my little angel trying to take her clothes off during service-more than once.  

New ladies in town

No, I'm not talking about the three grinning chicks leaning against the fence.  I'm talking about the feathery one's inside.  

We have been wanting to get chickens for a long time and we finally got them.  We would probably still be wanting them, however, some parishoners who have quite a few chickens offered to help us get set up.  We said yes and within two days they showed up with six chickens and the makings for a coop.  We dropped what we were doing and within a few hours we were watching our little ladies scratch around and eat bugs inside their fancy new digs.  

Of course, the girls named the chickens.  Three of them are red, so the girls said they are triplets and should all be called Elizabeth.  That makes things simple.  One's name is Emily, one is Penny and the bossy one is called Queeny Poo.  

They laid one egg a day for three days and then no more.  We are wondering if the cold snap has shut down production.  Any ideas?

Next on the agenda are goats, rabbits and more chickens.  We want a rooster but we live in the city and are wondering if they are going to be too noisy.  

I love them.  I can't wait to get a taller fence around their back yard area so they can roam.  

I need a farm...

Our Beloved Vladyka Dmitri

There is always time

for a tea party!  Yes?