Yesterday was a day that I dread year round: the day we butcher all of our chickens that we have raised. I know it's terrible. Just kidding, it's honestly not that bad once you can get past all the blood, guts and gore. I never can seem to get past it, so maybe it is all that bad for me. Yesterday was bearable because I got to cuddle with baby raccoons. I can see your jaw dropping from here. I know. How often do you get to hold adorable baby coons? Certainly not too much around here. They were my little cousin, Gabe's, his dad had shot the mother, who had been wreaking havoc on their farm and eating their chickens, only to find that she had left behind little babies. That's where Gabe stepped in and has been raising them for about a month. Gabe's younger brother also had a pet turtle that his grandpa had found. They had little critters literally falling from their pockets.
Precious.
Yesterday I was reminded of the nursery rhyme I would read as a kid. I guess it holds true, except for maybe the little girls part.
I was not that little girl (sorry mom).
- What are little boys made of?
- What are little boys made of?
- Slugs and snails
- And puppy-dogs' tails,
- That's what little boys are made of.
- What are little girls made of?
- What are little girls made of?
- Sugar and spice
- And everything nice,
- That's what little girls are made of.
So cute!
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