home on the range

If there were any residual feelings of not wanting to leave Memphis, a week on the road living out of suitcases took care of them. We had a great time at our many stops on the long way home, but we are all very glad to be Home. We didn't get in until late Saturday night and that first night felt strange and unfamiliar. I'm going to chalk it up to being sleepy and road weary because waking up in our own beds and seeing our friends at church on Sunday morning made us feel right at home. A sense of humor didn't hurt either, especially when I heard this after briefly stirring from my early morning slumber:

"Did you hear that?"

"Um, what?" (long pause)

Er-Er-Eeeeerrrrrrrr!!!!!!

"That."

Oh, yeah. I've heard about that. Roosters like to cock-a-doodle-doo with the rising sun. But, wait. We're not on a farm. We're in suburbia. Grrreeeaaat. I've mentioned how we found out one of our laying hens was really a rooster, but I had forgotten about the crowing part until I heard it with my own little ears. Echoing throughout the neighborhood. The quiet, dark neighborhood. At 6:30 a.m. And 7:00 a.m. And 8:00 a.m. I'm thinking I blocked out all memory of the 7:30 awakening. I've never been so glad to bury my head under the covers. I fully expected the neighborhood watch posse to be pounding on the door any minute. That reminds me, anyone know any good chicken recipes? Because we won't be going through this for very long, I can tell you. I'm thinking we need to try out the grill this weekend with some good all-natural, free range chicken. Yum.

Comments

[Barb]

Dude! I hope you're joking.