News from the front...

Statistics proved right when one out of our fifteen chicks turned out to have a rooster lurking in their midst. He is now learning to crow. He's beginning to pester the hens. And you can tell by the glint in his eye and the proud strut when he walks, that he is really beginning to believe that he is the, "Cock of the block.
Wrong!
Can you say, "The circle of life?" Ahem.
Pot - Bound!!!

My old friend, "Chick" gave me a handful of sticks a year ago last fall and told me to stick a spade into the ground; opening a gap just wide enough to shove the stick into the smiling slit of earth. Last year I saw sprouts spring begin to spring up as the sticks themselves just dried up and fell away. This being the second year, I am getting a few helpings of raspberries. These are the thorn-less variety and are planted in such a way that you can pick the nut crunch and sweet red berries from both sides of the bush. Chick died last August. He would get such glee and be so be proud. Thanks, buddy!

I have planted two raised beds. They are doing well. The house, both inside and out, has experienced quite a transformation. The energy of the house is altogether different. And that is a good thing. No more dark. No more skulls, crows and pentagrams. Not that there is anything wrong with that but when they emit the energy of maalocchio, you know that it isn't good. The house was once a place of respite for friends and travelers. Perhaps we are entering the return. After all, the old Irish neighborhood, once known as "The Patch" now has an Irish living back in the house.
Irish in the hood!

I was fortunate enough to have the first seven days of July off for a vacation. The weather evolved to meet my every need. How cool is that?
At the ocean? Hot! On the bike trail? (almost 30 miles) Nice! I packed a lot into that week off. Up time. Down time. Yard and play. Not a complaint to be had. (of course I still did - duh!) And of course riding twenty eight miles was more of a task than I was ready for. The final eight to five miles found me giving pep talks to myself. I envisioned EMS rolling down the riverside bike path only to find me with my eyes rolled back and my tongue sticking out. The last five to two miles rekindled my hope like smelling a bake shop when you hadn't eaten all day. The final two miles found me pedaling like a school girl with pigtails blowing the breeze. Not that anyone else saw me that way. My bike partner laughed as he looked at me my sunglasses, helmet and beard parting in the wind.
"Man. You got to get a Harley," he said.,