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Showing posts with label chickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chickens. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Sojourn Begins


Yes, we were gone for awhile . . . and here's what we did!

On April 13th, Howard, Anne, and I landed at LAX around noon,
picked up Alida and her husband Josh at their apartment in Los Angeles,
and off we went to Oceanside,
somewhere down there in the Golden State, near San Diego.
My grasp of California geography is pretty sketchy.

In Oceanside, there's a gorgeous beach, and a long fishing pier,
 the most delicious Thai food I ever tasted, and - 

-- best of all -- there is Josh's family.

The last time we all saw one another was at
Josh and Alida's wedding, back in June 2011.  
(Longtime followers of That Old House are now screaming,
"No! No! Not another wedding post!")

Josh's Mom keeps backyard chickens, beautiful Rhode Island Reds,
and now I find myself Googling "keeping backyard chickens"
when I am at the computer.  My Mom kept chickens; it's in my DNA.

Josh's Mom, and his Aunt Sue who once owned a cafe,
put together a beautiful brunch for us on Sunday morning.

 Coffee, champagne, fruit, yogurt, breads and pastries, cheeses, even my favorite
California breakfast: Chilaquiles, made by Alida. 
Confession: This is a picture of my breakfast last year at Cha Cha Cha in Los Angeles' Silverlake neighborhood,
just blocks from Josh and Alida's apartment.  Cha Cha Cha is where I fell in love with this Mexican dish.
I forgot to get a picture of Alida's version.  Too busy eating and chatting.
How adorable and creative is this?
And the scones?  Incredible.  What diet?

I also learned a valuable life lesson:
that Spicy V8 juice makes an excellent Bloody Mary.  

We had a grand time visiting with our daughter's in-laws.
Of all the people Alida might have ended up marrying, she married a
great guy from a wonderful family, and we could not be happier.
That we truly like his parents is a fabulous bonus.
Anne, Billie, Elizabeth & Zech, Josh & Alida, and Howard.
Mocha and Bella in front.
Thank you, Billie and Greg, for your hospitality, and the charming company of Mocha and Bella;
we didn't miss our own dogs as much with yours to play with.  
Billie, your Green Thumb and what you have done with your gardens has inspired me!
I hope it won't be another two years before we see one another again.
******************************
So on Monday morning, it was goodbye to Oceanside,
and hello to Las Vegas.
Yes, folks . . . the innocents from New Jersey were let loose in Sin City.
Our adventures with high stakes gambling
and glamorous showgirls in tomorrow's blog post.
Loose women and high livin'.   -- Cass

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Rooster Down, We Have A Rooster Down -- Redux

It's Sunday, the bloggers' day of rest.
Or, re-run time.


This post, below, is from August 2009.
It refers to a mosaic I did the day before:



So I'm joining Chari's Happy To Design Sunday Favorites link party, here.
*************************************************************

(August 2009)  The roosters at That Old House never made it to the recent Rooster party, 
 because their owner didn't get her roosters and chickens ready in time.

She does things like that.  Dopey things.

Okay, that's enough of referring to myself in the third person,
like Queen Victoria or Bob Dole.


Does that rooster (above) look annoyed to you?
I think he may be a little bit miffed at missing the big Rooster Bash.


*****************************************************************

So I just posted my rooster mosaic (shown above) anyway,
and sent it off all on its lonesome into cyberspace.


A few people commented on this little guy:




Isn't he a handsome devil?
He belonged to my Mom.

He is a shelf-sitter, which is nothing at all like a fence-sitter.


He likes to sit on the window sill in the sunroom
and check out any cute chicks that pass on the street.

His legs and wings are attached with itty bitty bits of old string,

and his right wing has an . . . issue:


During the course of our photo session, as I was telling him to gaze
soulfully into the camera, to make love to the lens . . . his wing fell off.


Roosters have notoriously delicate stomachs
and can't take the sight of their own blood.
Or in this case, disintegrated old twine. The poor little guy fainted clean away.


Don't worry. I gave him a little sip of brandy,
and he came around in a few minutes and is fine.
I have promised to find some gnarly old twine
and re-attach his wing, and put him back on the sunroom windowsill
so he can watch the world -- and those chicks -- go by.


Reality check -- Mr. Rooster has asked that the next time I shoot a closeup of his head,
I take the time to 
DUST HIM FIRST. Oops. My bad. --- Cass


Happy To Design