Monday, November 12, 2012

first fruit and small re-beginnings


We have this orange tree.  It's called a Lone-Star Orange tree, reportedly bred to thrive in our region of Texas.  So far so good.  This poor little tree has survived some of the hottest and driest and coldest and wettest seasons in the history of our state, and it has marched on gallantly!  And this year, it is making its first fruit!  Since spring time, when we noticed this lonely fruit, we have nursed and loved it with great care.  Well, we would have nursed it and loved it with great care -- if there were anything for us to do.  But in reality, we just looked at it and sent it good thoughts from time to time.  For the longest time, it was just as green as the leaves on the tree.  But this past week, it finally changed color.  It's yellow!  If you had known how many times we've attempted to start fruit trees on this property, you would appreciate the joy of this moment.

The peaches, the blackberries, the fig that didn't even root.  And the lime that i kept mowing down.  

But now, we will partake in a true fruit of our labor.  Yay!

2012, The Year of the Orange

but definitely not the year of the chicken.

Our poor chickens have had a very difficult year.  We have been without incident for several month, biding our time with a lovely little flock of three (one rooster and two hens) for probably six months now.  Until a couple of weeks ago, when my wonderful hero husband rescued one of our hens from a hawk, who was attacking her, in broad daylight, on our porch!  That's boldness there.  Boldness run aMUCK!

Well, she was o.k.  I was able to nurse her wounds, and she was back in the coop with her little family that very night.  But two days later, she was gone.  So sad.  Then, the very next day, when we came home from work, we were completely without the joy of chickens.  No signs, just feathers.  Very sad.  It has been almost a week since this happened.

I'm off work today, but my hubby isn't.  This morning, he came home during his break, and while we were talking in the front yard, to my great surprise, from behind him emerged a chicken!  

"Look!" i said, "Chicken!"


And there she is, whole and healthy, pecking around in the front yard, like she lives here or something.  I guess she was hiding all this time.  Or maybe she was lost in the woods somewhere.  But now she's here, and i'm delighted.  We were going to wait until spring to start over with chickens, but i think we're going to have to find her a little family....and a name.  I don't name most of my chickens because telling them all apart becomes exhausting, especially when they all look alike.  But when one makes a special mark (such as rising from the perceived dead), she gets a name.  Any suggestions?

I'm just happy to see her.  I never shed a tear over the loss of my little flock this last time. But when i saw this girl, i started crying because i was so happy she was alive and unhurt!

And i remember, in the four short years that we have lived here, how easily one can advance from just a few chickens, to way too many chickens.  Before you know it.  I look forward to more of those days.  I may just go chicken wild in the near future.  



1 comment:

  1. For no apparent reason, I vote for Christine. It means Christ-like, I am told. The resurrected one.....

    ReplyDelete

What do you think about that?