A Week, Briefly (4/2/18)
Easter was lovely . . . if a bit overwhelming what with the outpouring of revelatory changes in General Conference.
Monday's weather was perfectly acceptable for January.
It was a slap in the face on April 2nd.
But Sir Walter Scott and I took off for the temple first thing in the morning and had quite a lovely time volunteering for the weekly cleaning. We dusted, mopped, polished, and washed.
It's such a different experience cleaning the temple than cleaning my own house.
After that, we went out for lunch and talked about the kids for 2+ hours. There was and is much for us to counsel about together.
The teens took good care of everyone all day, and I cannot remember what we did with the rest of the afternoon . . . except for my chiropractic appointment.
Then we had a couple of regular-ish school days--minus Symposium.
And I had a long, long counsel with Pixie over her plans for the next couple of years and how to best bring those plans to fruition. Long story short: she has been accepted to the local community college and is taking their placement test ASAP,
I think Super Star got an extra 30 hours of sleep this week.
We've got to find a workable solution to her thyroid issues.
Then the sun came out in full force on Thursday! Boy did we rejoiced in it!
And 15 baby chicks joined our family that morning. (The post office called at 6:49 am.)
We could hardly tear ourselves away from them.
They are so stinking cute!
And not one of us is unaffected by a strong desire to protect them.
Which is why when we woke up on Friday morning and noticed how listless "Sweetie" was, we got worried.
Breakfast was late, chores went undone, all of us rallied to Sweetie's side.
It all looks so silly in print, but in life, it was all-consuming--it was a microcosm of the validity and value of life.
I spent some time dipping her beak in water to get her to drink a little, and that perked her up a tiny bit, but after she just sagged limply back to the floor, and the other chicks walked on her, eliciting no reaction from her.
I googled some advice.
We gave her thinned out plain yogurt in an eye-dropper.
It seemed to make a difference, so I left Belle in charge of being Sweetie's nurse (it wasn't like I was going to get her to do anything else that day anyway!) and, after feeding everyone some breakfast and making sure all of the other meals were prepped and instructions clear, I headed out the door for my long-planned shopping trip to the local homeschool convention.
Halfway through the day, Sir Walter Scott texted me with news of Sweetie's declining state.
He did some more googling, and I did some more curriculum research and shopping, but at 4:30 Belle texted me, "Sweetie just died."
She was a 3 day old chicken!
But I stood in that crowded hall and cried.
I cried for my sweet, broken-hearted Belle.
And I cried for Sweetie.
I came home immediately, and found everyone holding themselves together on the surface, but at the slightest inquiry, they broke down, and I had my arms full of sobbing children (except for Ladybug, Brother and Beowulf who are eerily unaffected by the whole thing).
I cried again.
Belle hid her face in my shoulder as she told me how Sweetie had convulsed for "a long time" before succumbing.
We've had pets die--2 in the past few years.
But they were old and tired and had lived lives of great joy.
We've picked up dead animals and birds off our deck (our cat is a killer) and in our yard.
We've investigated dead animals on our hikes.
But this was different.
This was hard.
We were responsible for Sweetie, and she was a baby.
Super Star asked, "Why does it bother us so much? She only lived with us for a day and a half! She's only a chicken!"
That's when I pointed out Matthew 10:29--about how God even knows the sparrows. And if He knows the sparrows, he certainly knows the chicks. And how Sweetie was teaching us all a lesson in love and the value of each and every living creature on this earth. Life is a precious gift and should be protected.
And I can't help but remember Charlotte's Web:
"Where's Papa going with that axe?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast."
We all know where that inquiry led.
Love simply doesn't care about time or species or anything.
I really don't think we're meant to be farmers--micro or otherwise.
But the rest of the chicks are still super-cute.
(And may they stay healthy! We gave them garlic and apple-cider vinegar!)
Oh! The homeschool convention? Because of my advanced preparation, I had several hours of very productive shopping. Much will be shipped to us in the coming weeks, and I'll report on our plans as I finalize the what's left to take care of.
(linking here)
 |
| photo credit: Little Princess |
Monday's weather was perfectly acceptable for January.
It was a slap in the face on April 2nd.
 |
| photo credit: Pixie |
But Sir Walter Scott and I took off for the temple first thing in the morning and had quite a lovely time volunteering for the weekly cleaning. We dusted, mopped, polished, and washed.
It's such a different experience cleaning the temple than cleaning my own house.
After that, we went out for lunch and talked about the kids for 2+ hours. There was and is much for us to counsel about together.
The teens took good care of everyone all day, and I cannot remember what we did with the rest of the afternoon . . . except for my chiropractic appointment.
Then we had a couple of regular-ish school days--minus Symposium.
And I had a long, long counsel with Pixie over her plans for the next couple of years and how to best bring those plans to fruition. Long story short: she has been accepted to the local community college and is taking their placement test ASAP,
I think Super Star got an extra 30 hours of sleep this week.
We've got to find a workable solution to her thyroid issues.
Then the sun came out in full force on Thursday! Boy did we rejoiced in it!
 |
| Waiting for older sisters to be done dancing--regular practice was already over. |
And 15 baby chicks joined our family that morning. (The post office called at 6:49 am.)
 |
| No, the wading pool is actually not deep enough to keep them safe for more than a few days, but we're working on a better arrangement even now. And, yes, we do have a better heat lamp than the one pictured--we were just trying to find it! |
We could hardly tear ourselves away from them.
They are so stinking cute!
And not one of us is unaffected by a strong desire to protect them.
 |
| Apparently the chicks quite like having their tummies gently rubbed. Some curl up, some stretch out, but they all close their eyes in pleasure and seem to sigh wistfully when I make the kids put them back down on their own feet. |
Which is why when we woke up on Friday morning and noticed how listless "Sweetie" was, we got worried.
Breakfast was late, chores went undone, all of us rallied to Sweetie's side.
It all looks so silly in print, but in life, it was all-consuming--it was a microcosm of the validity and value of life.
I spent some time dipping her beak in water to get her to drink a little, and that perked her up a tiny bit, but after she just sagged limply back to the floor, and the other chicks walked on her, eliciting no reaction from her.
I googled some advice.
We gave her thinned out plain yogurt in an eye-dropper.
It seemed to make a difference, so I left Belle in charge of being Sweetie's nurse (it wasn't like I was going to get her to do anything else that day anyway!) and, after feeding everyone some breakfast and making sure all of the other meals were prepped and instructions clear, I headed out the door for my long-planned shopping trip to the local homeschool convention.
Halfway through the day, Sir Walter Scott texted me with news of Sweetie's declining state.
He did some more googling, and I did some more curriculum research and shopping, but at 4:30 Belle texted me, "Sweetie just died."
She was a 3 day old chicken!
But I stood in that crowded hall and cried.
I cried for my sweet, broken-hearted Belle.
And I cried for Sweetie.
I came home immediately, and found everyone holding themselves together on the surface, but at the slightest inquiry, they broke down, and I had my arms full of sobbing children (except for Ladybug, Brother and Beowulf who are eerily unaffected by the whole thing).
I cried again.
Belle hid her face in my shoulder as she told me how Sweetie had convulsed for "a long time" before succumbing.
We've had pets die--2 in the past few years.
But they were old and tired and had lived lives of great joy.
We've picked up dead animals and birds off our deck (our cat is a killer) and in our yard.
We've investigated dead animals on our hikes.
But this was different.
This was hard.
We were responsible for Sweetie, and she was a baby.
Super Star asked, "Why does it bother us so much? She only lived with us for a day and a half! She's only a chicken!"
That's when I pointed out Matthew 10:29--about how God even knows the sparrows. And if He knows the sparrows, he certainly knows the chicks. And how Sweetie was teaching us all a lesson in love and the value of each and every living creature on this earth. Life is a precious gift and should be protected.
 |
| A note from Mister Man |
And I can't help but remember Charlotte's Web:
"Where's Papa going with that axe?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast."
We all know where that inquiry led.
Love simply doesn't care about time or species or anything.
I really don't think we're meant to be farmers--micro or otherwise.
But the rest of the chicks are still super-cute.
(And may they stay healthy! We gave them garlic and apple-cider vinegar!)
Oh! The homeschool convention? Because of my advanced preparation, I had several hours of very productive shopping. Much will be shipped to us in the coming weeks, and I'll report on our plans as I finalize the what's left to take care of.
(linking here)
I am so sorry for the loss of Sweetie. It is so hard to say goodbye to a precious life. The three who were not shaken by the death may fall apart later . My Goldilocks couldn't process death or loss for a long time. Her survival instinct was so strong she couldn't cope at all with the realization of mortality.
ReplyDeleteThe chicks look delightful. I can only imagine how hard it is to tear yourselves away form them. The loss of Sweeties is sad. I can understand most everyone falling apart. The lack of reaction from Ladybug, Brother and Beowulf is also sad - I'm guessing it is a reaction/coping mechanism connected to the trauma they suffered in their earliest years. Hope the remaining chicks thrive.
ReplyDeleteOur over-reaction to the death of a chick is probably the odd behavior compared to the on-the-surface philosophical reactions of the three young ones. But they are passionate over-reactors to everything but life-and-death, so I agree with both of you about there being some mental/emotional trauma issue that prevents their processing such events. As I said, their stoicism is actually eerie instead of peaceful or rational. These poor kids . . . I truly wonder how, when, or if they will ever truly heal . . . other than in the life to come.
ReplyDeleteWe got our baby chicks this week too. Usually if they are going to die from something related to birth/transport it happens in the first 5 days so hopefully the rest will stay healthy. It is hard! We have been raising chickens for 10 years and it definitely is harder when they die as babies. I do not deal well with animal death...I cried and cried when our baby squirrels died last year...it is one reason I am hesitant to breed our goats I'm not sure how well we would deal if things went wrong, and they do.
ReplyDeleteHow nice to be able to go to a homeschool convention. I wish I had one close enough to go to. I would really like to shop in person especially for things I am so undecided on!
Lovely post. I pleasure to read despite the sadness it contained. That is the reason that my husband won't let me raise chicks...he is just too soft a heart if one were to die.
ReplyDeleteWell we are adopting a 10 year old male cat named Chu Chu in the next couple days. His mommy passed, and I worked with her on her hospice team. Her kids and I secretly arranged for me to take him. He’s an orange tabby, and we are all so glad no shelters will be involved. PS, we need blog names if I ever want to blog again. My daughter wants her stepfather to be Alexander Hamilton, but my fiancé isn’t too keen on that. My daughter insists the real Alexander was an abolitionist, and my fiancé disagrees. Historically, it’s contested. We looked through your kids’ blog names and it seems like you took all the good ones that would match my kids perfectly. Got any suggestions?
ReplyDelete