Books, writing, conference ... let's put all that aside. There's more important stuff to consider at the moment. Stuff like this:
ISN'T SHE THE CUTEST WIDDLE THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN?!? She'd better be a she. Or she's a future meal.
Saturday night I'm out with my Hunny and Maybelline, enjoying fine dining and dancing (and Edward Olmos, keynote speaker) at the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce's first annual award banquet in Tulsa. See? My darling daughter and I had a wonderful time.
And she danced with her daddy! I don't dance.
While we were living it up, Goof Ball was out with a friend's husband, supposedly looking for driftwood for me to burn baby animals into. They didn't find any driftwood. That might be because, oh, I don't know, it's kind of tough to find driftwood in a FEED STORE. Yeah. They came home with Nugget. A day old chick of unknown origin. Here's my boy and his chick. She loves him to pieces already.
Here's where I'm begging for information. I've looked up all the fun stuff on caring for chicks. Heck, Goof Ball and Oatmeal Head did all the research online before we ever got home. The part I don't get is what kind of chicken our little Nugget is. She has feathers all the way down her legs and covering her toes. Anyone? Anyone have a clue? I'm hoping whatever kind she is lays tasty eggs.
So it was a crazy weekend. Crazier still that I may be taking a chicken to work with me tomorrow. I'm supposed to check on it five times a day. Why? To make sure it's still alive? Still making that peeping noise? Still pooping everywhere? Why?!? *sigh* I'm just going with it.
Until I write again ...