Todays dragon picture is a reminder that facing the dragon can be a good thing.

Of course, I’ve paired it with a favorite anonymous quote, because I’m contrary and it’s funny–

Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for thou art crunchy and taste good with ketchup!

But, there they were.  Eleven eggs, tucked into a hollow between two trees and protected by brambles.  The brambles especially were a very good idea, as my scraped up arms can tell you.

Aren’t they gorgeous?  After collecting one egg a day–if that–and turning away a half dozen wannabe guinea owners cause we didn’t have enough keets, it was such a triumph to find an overflowing nest!

But we knew better than to just collect the eggs.  Guinea hens are notorious for abandoning a nest they’ve seen you near, or where you’ve collected.  So we copied the burglaring Indiana Jones routine and swapped clay eggs for their real ones when they weren’t looking.

Pretty good clay eggs, eh?  Well…they’re a bit lumpy, not exactly symmetrical and they probably stink of paint.  But, they’re egg-ish!  And the guineas thought so, too.  We spotted them out by the nest in the afternoon, and there were already two new eggs in the hollow.  Success!

Or, not.

This was what the nest looked like when I came back later to collect.  Those three little white spheres are not eggs–oh, no.  Those are golf balls.  I slipped a few of those into the nest, as well, just to fill it out.  And apparently they didn’t pass muster.  The guineas have moved their eggs and egg-laying selves–including my clay ones–to a new and as yet undisclosed location.  All my tramping through the woods couldn’t turn it up, and neither could the troops I called in for reinforcement.

And if, by any chance, it was not the guineas who did the moving and was instead a predator, I have only one thing to say.  I hope you choke on it!

If you’re a dog, you tear into a giant snow ball.

If you’re a guinea, you fly into the highest tree and stay there.

If you’re a girl, you make a snowman with super-sonic spikey eyes.

And if you’re me?  You make hot chocolate!

Happy Last Day of Winter!

(never mind what that silly old groundhog has to say!)

Nope.

Our first home-grown silkie chick pipped (broke the shell) yesterday morning around 6:00am, but then proceeded to do absolutely nothing.  After many long hours of nothing–she rocked her egg a bit.  Then she started peeping distressingly, like she stuck and wouldn’t we please come help her out?  Here she is, peeping (you’ll have to imagine the sound) and doing nothing.

In true baby style, she chose the middle of the night to finally get to work.  I got up at 4:00am to check on her and found her mostly out but having trouble cause she’d spent so much time doing nothing that the membranes had dried to her feathers.  I squeezed a bit of warm water from a sponge over her back, and withing minutes she’d kicked her way free.  Graceful as any toddler ballerina, she flopped around the incubator and yelled at everyone else to get out of her way.

As she gained a little coordination, she discovered a new game–bowling her unhatched siblings around the bator.  Two points if they bonked each other, three if they hit one of the mugs.  By the time she was fluffed enough to move from the bator to the brooder, every egg in the bator was wide awake and most were peeping.  In fact, no less than six additional eggs have pipped–thanks to a little sibling encouragement!

Here she is giving the the camera a cranky look.  So rude!  She clearly hasn’t finished fluffing her down!

And here she is checking out the thermometer.  Someone promised her an ipad if she hatched first, and this isn’t it!

We’ve named her Prima, but I’m wondering if we might have to add ‘dona’ to her name!

But yesterday, in the library, the geek in me was offered a tantalizing prize of proportions that went way beyond temptation, and I couldn’t keep in the squee–

I was introduced to NC LIVE.

Do you know what a treasure this is?  With the wave of my library bar code, I can watch all the PBS documentaries I want.  Right now, that’s American history brought to life, broken out by decade or major event and free at my fingertips!  Can you blame me for throwing coolness to the wind?  For babbling my gratitude to the dear reference librarian who brought me enlightenment?  I know that it will take a great deal of effort to regain my lost ground on that slippery slope of all things cool, but I really don’t see how it could be helped.  Besides, maybe the librarian won’t tell–in fact, I’m pretty sure she understands.  How do I know this?  Well…

She’s a librarian, but for just a minute there–she forgot to be quiet.

Sorry.  I’ll give you a minute.

But I’m actually discovering a few morning joys…and it’s nice!  First, there’s the sunrise thing–did you guys know the sun comes up all big and pretty in the morning?  That it does the whole pink and gold gig TWICE a day?  I mean, look at that–it’s gorgeous!

Who knew?

But in addition to the sunrise, there’s also quiet times in the morning.  For example, there are long walks around the pond with Zeke, our dog.  Best of all, when I get home and collapse from the dog-induced speed walk, I’ve already done my exercise for the day.  And it’s not even 8:30am!

I have to tell you, this morning thing is really wooing me.  Life has a nice sense of rhythm to it when the day begins while it’s still clearly morning and there’s no brunch in sight.  It sets me up for a day of productivity, peace–and that great joy in life called an afternoon nap.

You should give it a try!

Or, some variation thereof.  After all, Thanksgiving is next week and there are menus to write, food to cook, and guests/travel to plan for.

I, on the other hand, have been doing this,

and this,

which is me setting up my winter village and making winter/Christmas crafts.  As I mentioned on FB, we celebrated Thanksgiving early his year and have moved on to Christmas.  And you know what?  It feels way too liberating!  I must have a rebel streak a mile wide.  Except, you know, inverted into a tightly wound helix that’s NOT a mile wide, cause I haven’t even had any holiday treats yet and can still fit into my skinny jeans!

So, here’s me gloating over all of you while I listen to my Christmas music, but there’s a chance for you to get me back.  The Cabinet (which just posted a hilarious note from Becca Fitzpatrick which will make your travel packing seem a dream) is taking me hostage on Tuesday and hooking me up to a lie detector test for their interview.  Leave your questions here, or stop by Tuesday, and maybe you’ll get the skinny on my deepest darkest secrets.  Then you can gloat.

It was distasteful to brush elbows with the muggles, but I had a bit of fun.  A cauldron full of spiders brought to life, here, a  child’s sword sharpened, there.  One lady thought she had a clever snack of little mummies and their mum–

I whispered a spell as I passed by, and the lady’s screams echoed through the mall.

My crowning mischief of the night I worked while riding my broomstick home.  Someone had left their carved pumpkin to watch over the fluffy little chicks.

Their mistake.

Really, these muggles don’t know the first thing about Halloween.  But I and my wand will teach them!

Happy Halloween, Muggles!

In the mean time, stop by Jen Wylie’s blog for my guest post, Keep Your Demons Close.  But be ready for a kinda creepy piece of flash fiction I wrote while having an arachnophobic moment, courtesy of October’s spooks.  Help yourself to a few candy corns while you’re at it–I’ve got a ‘handful’ to spare!

Mmm, yum!  Hehehe.

No treats come without tricks, though, so watch out for these little demon guardians.

They like their candy, and they’re not about to share!

Plus, I’ll always have proof that no matter how bad the kitchen looks, it could always be worse.  Because, you know, I like to keep it positive!

I thought about sharing the pic, but decided to shield your tender eyes–and my dignity.  Besides, the dishes are looking up.  After another round tonight, they’ll look even better.  By the time we leave tomorrow, the kitchen will probably have reached the transcendent state of semi-presentable.  Which is, you should know, my highest aspiration.  I learned a long time ago, back in the way beyond days when my house used to enjoy a state of spotlessness, that I could keep a clean house and be a Super Housekeeper complete with the Super Housekeeper badge and trophy…or I could be a great mom, a busy writer, and happy lady.  And when I really, really just gotta have a badge or spiffy-sized trophy?  I can make one for myself, out of cardboard and crayons, and stack them all in a row.

So, what will I be doing this weekend?  Straightening up, vacuuming, washing dishes, catching up laundry?  Ha!  I’ll be at SCBWI Carolinas writing conference, along with my hubby and kids, and loving every minute of it.  Let those dishes leer–they don’t scare me!