Fluffy Butt Acres: Stories of our flock

[Shadrach]

Shadrach, what kind of lamps do you make?

Hello Ted.
I make this kind.
https://www.backyardchickens.com/th...t-is-your-hobby.1278899/page-26#post-20622769https://www.backyardchickens.com/threads/shadrachs-lamps.1272460/

 

[Ted_Harrell]

Nice

 

[Ribh]

Hello Ted.
I make this kind.
https://www.backyardchickens.com/th...t-is-your-hobby.1278899/page-26#post-20622769https://www.backyardchickens.com/threads/shadrachs-lamps.1272460/

Those are really beautiful, Shad.

 

[Aussie-Chookmum]

The super white snow really helps Aurora to show off her coloring. She looks so pretty right now. And she is not hindered by snow at all. Trucking around the yard like it's no big thing.

Maybe Aurora is part ptarmigan?

 

[Aussie-Chookmum]

That is quite normal. I was out with my girls shortly after my dad died and something triggered me at the shops. To everyone's horror [including mine] I burst into uncontrollable sobs. You will have more control given time but the hurt will probably always be there.

Ribh hits the nail on the head as usual @mixedUPturk .

I found this description of grief on Reddit some time ago and it has helped me with the loss of my animals and later, my mother. I hope it may help you too Turk
(I'm afraid I don't know how to make it an attachment or hide it, sorry)



Grief by G Snow of Reddit

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

 

[Aussie-Chookmum]

Hello Ted.
I make this kind.
https://www.backyardchickens.com/th...t-is-your-hobby.1278899/page-26#post-20622769https://www.backyardchickens.com/threads/shadrachs-lamps.1272460/

Those are some gorgeous lamps Shad. They look so tactile, I just want to rub my hands all over them.

One day I'd like to take up woodwork too.

 

[Shadrach]

Ribh hits the nail on the head as usual @mixedUPturk .

I found this description of grief on Reddit some time ago and it has helped me with the loss of my animals and later, my mother. I hope it may help you too Turk
(I'm afraid I don't know how to make it an attachment or hide it, sorry)



Grief by G Snow of Reddit

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

I like this.
I have a thought in my head when struggling on seems an impossible task; 'if I can get through this, I can get through them all''

 

[Shadrach]

Those are some gorgeous lamps Shad. They look so tactile, I just want to rub my hands all over them.

One day I'd like to take up woodwork too.

Thank you. They are meant to be touched.

 

[CrazyChookChookLady]

Time to Fly the Coop

It was too much for the littles today. Maleficent led the charge first. I opened the big run door today when I took them a breakfast snack. Mal decided that the 2 feet in snow to the sunflower seeds left behind by the song birds was worth it.

Next thing I know this one was knocking on the backdoor.
View attachment 2007369

Next thing I knew these two showed up
View attachment 2007372

Lilly was not willing to leave the small band with no snow around the coop.
View attachment 2007376

Eventually Lilly could not stand the thought that others were getting special food and she was not. After a few flights, (anything to avoid touching the snow) this was the sight at my back door.

View attachment 2007378

I decided to shovel the deck for them. So they all stood in front of the door looking in. I have never gotten the picture from this angle before.
View attachment 2007383

After eating, mealy worms, cracked corn, and cheese Itz, Lilly and Hattie decided it was nap time.

View attachment 2007385

Right now Lilly is trying to figure out how to get back to the coop without stepping on the snow. She does not seem happy.

Poor baby.

I just checked coop cam, Maleficent is roosted already. The others are still trapped on the deck at 5:00 pm.
View attachment 2007391

I just LOVE the color Aurora is developing! She looks so pretty, like a little straw bale in the sunshine!

 

[BY Bob]

I just LOVE the color Aurora is developing! She looks so pretty, like a little straw bale in the sunshine!

That is just a wonderful description of Aurora. Thank you. I love that this snow is really helping her to thrive. It has been great for her with her fearlessness. She is blazing trails and it is not slowing her down at all.