Chickens

I love my chickens. They eat bugs which is good for the garden.  They lay eggs which we eat.  And they provide some amusement.  On the occasional  moment when we are very lacking for entertainment we have been known to host a chicken race. We each grab a chicken (which in itself can be quite entertaining), then one of us without a chicken goes to the finish line and throws out some grain. Those of us with a chicken line up at the starting line and at the signal of the one at the finish line, let our chickens go and cheer them on.  It has happened that one of our chickens will make it to the finish line and a new winner is crowed, er crowned.

But even considering their bug eating, egg laying, and racing, it cannot be denied that chickens are creatures of “very little brain” , much like Winnie the Pooh.  And here is proof.  Lucky for these clueless hens we are vegetarians.

Nevada Petroglyphs

What to do while visiting in Reno and the son and daughter-in-law are at work and the grandkids are in school? We’re not gamblers.  We’ve done the river walk and checked out the mall.  Time for some real adventure. So we headed east out of town to Fallon,  about 50 miles. We were slightly traumatized when we saw that the Fallon McDonald’s was closed for a total renovation so we couldn’t get a sweet tea.  But we bravely pushed on.  And it was worth it because another seven or eight miles out of town we came to the Grimes Archeological site.

And it is amazing!  Just off the hiway there are hundreds of boulders of various sizes just tossed about on the desert floor.  And here and there among this pile you will find some that have incredible pictures on them, some etched into the rock;  some painted on.

Those who study such things say they are  not sure how old these drawings are, nor are they sure of the purpose of the drawings.  They may be a couple of thousand years old.  Maybe only 500 years old.  Perhaps they were drawn for sacred reasons.  Perhaps as reminders of good hunting grounds. We don’t know, so let your imagination go. The pictures are fascinating.

Take the top one for instance.  Our daughter-in-law thinks it is a woman giving.

A smiley face!  🙂

A rainbow.  A peace sign.  A road map.

PS I clearly need some help with inserting my pictures.  I line ’em up and save ’em and then they jump around.  Ends up looking like that rock above.  Maybe some hundreds of years from now someone will think it is amazing!

Reno

The eve of Spring Break always elicits the important question, “Are you doing something fun next week?” A trip to Paris?  Wow!  A cruise in the Caribbean?  Can’t believe it.  Heading to Seattle for a shopping spree and a play?  Very fun. Maybe just sleeping in?  That sounds good.  Cleaning the oven?   Maybe not so much fun but what the heck.  You’ll at least have a clean oven and those folk returning from Paris will just have stories of the Eiffel Tower and romantic walks along the West Bank. And a dirty oven.

But I digress. My answer when asked if I am doing something fun is , “We’re going to Reno.”  And the standard response is, “Oh! A little cha ching!”  Arghhhh!  I mean, “No.”  Might as well take my money and burn it for all the good gambling would do me.  Casinos are the most depressing places ever.  People mindlessly sitting in front of those one armed bandits, dropping in their coins, repeating the same motion.  What is that saying about the definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing over and over but hoping for a different result?

But I digress.  We go to Reno to see the son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids.  And while they are in school and at work (because, forsooth!  their spring break doesn’t match up with mine) we site see.  A walk along the Truckee River enjoying the geese and jays and magpies and humming bird nests.  A trip to the towns of Truckee and Virginia City, looking at old things and reading about the history of those places.  Checking out some new and different stores.  And enjoying the sun!   As they say, I wouldn’t want to live here, but the sun is delightful here in the Biggest Little City in the World.

And so is the family.

What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

Ah, the age old question. What do you want to be when you grow up?  Our 11 year old granddaughter says she wants to be fashion designer.  That dream runs in the family.  Our oldest daughter, auntie to our granddaughter, also wanted to be a fashion designer when she was this age.  She took a different career path but her heart is still very much interested in fashion and style.  Need to know if an outfit looks okay?  Call on the Fashion Police and she’ll applaud or set you straight.

The nine year old grandson wants to be the Army.  Blow things up and make loud noises. Those were the games my brother played when he was a kid.  But his path, too, took a much different route, going to seminary and learning about healing and peace and such.

Our son, father of these thoughtful grandkids, used to dream of being a photographer for the National Geographic, photographing far flung places and exotic animals. He does have his own side business in photography, shooting  local places and the wildlife at weddings and kid’s birthday parties.

Hubby, at one point in his childhood, thought he wanted to be a dentist.  He went into teaching instead, but he’s helped finance several dentist’s kids getting through college.  And our youngest wanted to be a veterinarian, but decided instead that owning horses and caring for the herd at a local church camp, giving lessons, training, and running camp and passing on her love of those beasts, is the current path for her to follow.

And me?  Well, I wanted to be grandparent.  I was skipping the parent part and going right for the easy stuff, grandparenting.  I have no idea where that idea came from because I seldom saw, and barely knew, my grandparents. But something about that job title intrigued me and that was my goal.  And here I am!  A grandparent.  And here I am today, visiting them in another state.

And I was quite right.  It is a delightful job.