Thanks for the advice!
Neighbor hates my chickens- will she do them harm?
- Thread starter TheSitcomGirls
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- #652
- Nov 17, 2010
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Spock is back in all of his full-feathered glory and he is loud. I turned the light on for the chickens. I need more eggs! The timer is set for 4:30 AM. Not sure if Spock crows that early... but if so I guess Crazy Lady will just have to deal with it. My dad taught me at a young age that just dealing with things is part of life.
Turning on the timer for the light in the coop comes at the same time each year as my Christmas Cacti blooming. I do love them. Their bright and paper thin flowers remind me of Thanksgiving at my grandmother's house. We trekked up to Vermont every year and ate fresh killed turkey- so juicy the likes of which I have never had again. Her living room was filled with bright red Christmas Cacti. All flowering madly and bringing a promise of the springtime rebirth of the dead flower gardens that dotted the yard outside her trailer.
Every summer I would stay with her. I slept on the porch. It was the summertime home of the Christmas Cacti. Their pots hung in front of the windows next the spider plants. In the summer when the sun was high in the sky the two plants could exist side by side. My grandparents were farmers at heart. When my dad was little they had a tiny farm with chickens and pigs. And of a course a huge garden where my grandmother grew enough produce to feed my dad and his 3 siblings all winter. They were poor and they used everything. Even now when my grandparents could afford to go down to the store and buy some Miracle Grow, who needs it? My grandmother saved her eggshells. She crushed them and added water. And she fertilized the houseplants with the mixture all summer long.
If you leave a watering can full of eggshells and water in the sun... well...I bet you can imagine how that smells after a bit. Even nastier when it is accidentally kicked over and spills all over the carpeted floor. So now I was stuck with the stinky porch. My sleeping quarters smelled like rotten eggs and I wanted to go home. So I called my dad crying as 12 year old girls do-with all the drama included. I still remember what he said, "Deal with it. Sometimes in life things will happen that you have no control over. You can't walk away, you have to deal with it." Mean, I thought! But I did what he said. My grandmother and I cleaned the carpet as best we could. She gave me a fan to move the stink around at night and we went a bought a brand new air-freshener. And I dealt with it. And after a while I didn't notice it anymore.
When I lost my mom to cancer I just had to deal with it. And then 11 1/2 months later when I lost my dad I just had to deal with that too. It sucked. But I know that my dad gave me the tools I need to keep going. My Christmas Cacti are beautiful this year. They sit blooming next to a 39 year old begonia. It was a housewarming gift to my dad from his sister when they moved into the house that my parents spent the next 36 years in together. The house where I grew up. After my dad's sister died I found him often just sitting and staring sadly at that Begonia. It was to him a piece of his sister that still lived. And as sad as he was he used that Begonia to learn to deal with it.
Baby Spock sat our couch with my dad. We laughed at his ridiculous growing comb and how he boldly flew and landed on the dog's head. Spock is my Begonia. I look at him and know my dad is still with me. I hear him crow and I know he is so loud that my dad must hear him in heaven. I love you Spock.
My Christmas Cactus for my gramma.
Turning on the timer for the light in the coop comes at the same time each year as my Christmas Cacti blooming. I do love them. Their bright and paper thin flowers remind me of Thanksgiving at my grandmother's house. We trekked up to Vermont every year and ate fresh killed turkey- so juicy the likes of which I have never had again. Her living room was filled with bright red Christmas Cacti. All flowering madly and bringing a promise of the springtime rebirth of the dead flower gardens that dotted the yard outside her trailer.
Every summer I would stay with her. I slept on the porch. It was the summertime home of the Christmas Cacti. Their pots hung in front of the windows next the spider plants. In the summer when the sun was high in the sky the two plants could exist side by side. My grandparents were farmers at heart. When my dad was little they had a tiny farm with chickens and pigs. And of a course a huge garden where my grandmother grew enough produce to feed my dad and his 3 siblings all winter. They were poor and they used everything. Even now when my grandparents could afford to go down to the store and buy some Miracle Grow, who needs it? My grandmother saved her eggshells. She crushed them and added water. And she fertilized the houseplants with the mixture all summer long.
If you leave a watering can full of eggshells and water in the sun... well...I bet you can imagine how that smells after a bit. Even nastier when it is accidentally kicked over and spills all over the carpeted floor. So now I was stuck with the stinky porch. My sleeping quarters smelled like rotten eggs and I wanted to go home. So I called my dad crying as 12 year old girls do-with all the drama included. I still remember what he said, "Deal with it. Sometimes in life things will happen that you have no control over. You can't walk away, you have to deal with it." Mean, I thought! But I did what he said. My grandmother and I cleaned the carpet as best we could. She gave me a fan to move the stink around at night and we went a bought a brand new air-freshener. And I dealt with it. And after a while I didn't notice it anymore.
When I lost my mom to cancer I just had to deal with it. And then 11 1/2 months later when I lost my dad I just had to deal with that too. It sucked. But I know that my dad gave me the tools I need to keep going. My Christmas Cacti are beautiful this year. They sit blooming next to a 39 year old begonia. It was a housewarming gift to my dad from his sister when they moved into the house that my parents spent the next 36 years in together. The house where I grew up. After my dad's sister died I found him often just sitting and staring sadly at that Begonia. It was to him a piece of his sister that still lived. And as sad as he was he used that Begonia to learn to deal with it.
Baby Spock sat our couch with my dad. We laughed at his ridiculous growing comb and how he boldly flew and landed on the dog's head. Spock is my Begonia. I look at him and know my dad is still with me. I hear him crow and I know he is so loud that my dad must hear him in heaven.
I love you Spock.My Christmas Cactus for my gramma.
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A very nice reminder of why Spock is so dear to your heart.
Very handsome roo and very pretty flowers.
Very handsome roo and very pretty flowers.
My mother kept a CC going for about 40 years...from a grocery store plant that I gave her as a present when I was maybe 11-12.
She propagated dozens of new plants from it...unfortunately none of us had her green thumb and the mother plant didn't make it.
She propagated dozens of new plants from it...unfortunately none of us had her green thumb and the mother plant didn't make it.
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- #655
- Nov 17, 2010
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I'm sorry Aart...but I'll bet there are lots of the baby plants still out there! My dad shared his plants with the world too. Every year he grew tons of seedlings in his little greenhouse-mostly vegetables. After his heart attack he stayed with us for two weeks. He could have stayed forever but he wanted to go back home. Home was where he felt close to my mom. All of her stuff was there. He never threw away a thing after she died. A week later when I went to visit him his skin was grey. He just couldn't breath. He was exhausted. But the seedlings... thousands of them... all were healthy and perfect. Taking care of plants was all he had been doing. Every bit of strength he had went into climbing up and down the greenhouse stairs and tending those plants.
He went into the hospital for the last time soon after that. He didn't want me to stay with him 24/7...he wanted me to take care of those plants. He needed me to finish the job he had started. So I did. I went from the hospital to his house every day. And the seedlings went from the grow lights, to the cold frame and into the vegetable garden-his and mine. And then he died. I'll always remember the horrible term that they use when a person is going to die soon from a terminal disease, "Actively dying". It's the physical stages that the body goes through when you die. I watched my mother go through it, but she was not conscious. My dad was. Even as his body systems shut down he never stopped being my dad until the few short hours before he actually passed. The night before he died his heart was not behaving right. All of the monitors went off, nurses, doctors running around. It was like a scene from a movie. My dad holding my hand. "You'll see Mom again, she'll be there," I told him. Then they gave him some medication and the crazy machine beeping just stopped.
"Well that was anti-climactic," he said. And we laughed. That was my dad.
He went into the hospital for the last time soon after that. He didn't want me to stay with him 24/7...he wanted me to take care of those plants. He needed me to finish the job he had started. So I did. I went from the hospital to his house every day. And the seedlings went from the grow lights, to the cold frame and into the vegetable garden-his and mine. And then he died. I'll always remember the horrible term that they use when a person is going to die soon from a terminal disease, "Actively dying". It's the physical stages that the body goes through when you die. I watched my mother go through it, but she was not conscious. My dad was. Even as his body systems shut down he never stopped being my dad until the few short hours before he actually passed. The night before he died his heart was not behaving right. All of the monitors went off, nurses, doctors running around. It was like a scene from a movie. My dad holding my hand. "You'll see Mom again, she'll be there," I told him. Then they gave him some medication and the crazy machine beeping just stopped.
"Well that was anti-climactic," he said. And we laughed. That was my dad.
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omg I'm so sorry bless your heart
. well the same thing to me. I have this hen named Goldie
and well my dad still alive but when we got her from tractor supply she was the only hen and the rest were boys
so we had to give them away and I was sad
. she is the only thing that reminds me of her brothers
and my dad even though my dad still alive. he was the one to pick my very first hen and that's why I love her so much because he picked her out! also since I'm in 8th grade people think I'm crazy
because I love my chickens they mean the whole world to me and they have brave little souls! God bless your heart!!!!!!!!!!!
PS Goldie has more chicken friends that I got from my pet chicken hatchery and they run the backyard even our dog LOL
PS Goldie has more chicken friends that I got from my pet chicken hatchery and they run the backyard even our dog LOL
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- #657
- Nov 17, 2010
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This round goes to Spock! DH came home from work and made my day! He ran into the zoning officer today at the town hall. The guy pulled him aside so no one could hear. Crazy Lady has apparently been coming in regularly and complaining about us. Things like our stone wall and bushes block her "site view", the new fence we put up 35 feet from the road also blocks her "site view" and now we have goats next to her back yard. To which he replied, "No, your site view is NOT blocked and they can have goats if they want to." These statements had no effect on her. The rants and complaints continue.
The zoning officer said that now she was not just complaining, but SCREAMING at his staff for not acting on her complaints. He used the word SCREAMING! She has now wasted so much time and resources of the town staff that the zoning officer is looking into sending HER the equivalent of a "cease and desist" letter. This is normally what he sends for zoning violations, but in her case it is for her to stop harassing town employees and wasting the town's time. What I find interesting is that her husband is not doing any of the complaining anymore. I guess he has been too busy putting their tarp fence back up every time we have a windstorm.
So that brings us to Spock. Spock was not mentioned by the zoning officer... at all. It's as if Spock no longer exists in this town. I picture how a zoning officer might investigate Crazy Lady's 50th complaint against us... driving by our house at 25 miles an hour with the window rolled up. "What rooster? I don't hear any rooster."
Here is Unacleet on his giant rock...overlooking Crazy Lady's pool.
The zoning officer said that now she was not just complaining, but SCREAMING at his staff for not acting on her complaints. He used the word SCREAMING! She has now wasted so much time and resources of the town staff that the zoning officer is looking into sending HER the equivalent of a "cease and desist" letter. This is normally what he sends for zoning violations, but in her case it is for her to stop harassing town employees and wasting the town's time. What I find interesting is that her husband is not doing any of the complaining anymore. I guess he has been too busy putting their tarp fence back up every time we have a windstorm.
So that brings us to Spock. Spock was not mentioned by the zoning officer... at all. It's as if Spock no longer exists in this town. I picture how a zoning officer might investigate Crazy Lady's 50th complaint against us... driving by our house at 25 miles an hour with the window rolled up. "What rooster? I don't hear any rooster."
Here is Unacleet on his giant rock...overlooking Crazy Lady's pool.
Wow. Just wow. How does she come up with energy to harass so many people about little things when she has a life?This round goes to Spock! DH came home from work and made my day! He ran into the zoning officer today at the town hall. The guy pulled him aside so no one could hear. Crazy Lady has apparently been coming in regularly and complaining about us. Things like our stone wall and bushes block her "site view", the new fence we put up 35 feet from the road also blocks her "site view" and now we have goats next to her back yard. To which he replied, "No, your site view is NOT blocked and they can have goats if they want to." These statements had no effect on her. The rants and complaints continue.
The zoning officer said that now she was not just complaining, but SCREAMING at his staff for not acting on her complaints. He used the word SCREAMING! She has now wasted so much time and resources of the town staff that the zoning officer is looking into sending HER the equivalent of a "cease and desist" letter. This is normally what he sends for zoning violations, but in her case it is for her to stop harassing town employees and wasting the town's time. What I find interesting is that her husband is not doing any of the complaining anymore. I guess he has been too busy putting their tarp fence back up every time we have a windstorm.
So that brings us to Spock. Spock was not mentioned by the zoning officer... at all. It's as if Spock no longer exists in this town. I picture how a zoning officer might investigate Crazy Lady's 50th complaint against us... driving by our house at 25 miles an hour with the window rolled up. "What rooster? I don't hear any rooster."
I feel sorry for the woman's poor husband...and for her in her madness. Mental health issues are difficult to live with and around, and she has some serious ones.
Anyway, glad the officials fully have her number and the heat is off of y'all.
Is that rock farther away from the fence than it appears?
Looks like Unacleet could launch him(her?)self right over the fence...cringes at the thought of a goat in pool.
Anyway, glad the officials fully have her number and the heat is off of y'all.
Is that rock farther away from the fence than it appears?
Looks like Unacleet could launch him(her?)self right over the fence...cringes at the thought of a goat in pool.
I laughed out loud so much from that! 
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