Fresh and Springy

It's hard to type and cry at the same time.
Would you look at what my sister-in-law created for the CB header?


Holly. Holly, you talented, generous sweetheart. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I was about to post the old header for a comparison, and now I realize I may have dorked big time. Big time, compared with my usual dork factors. I think I made the old header *poof* in to the cybervortex of all gone. Crud.


Last year I was enjoying some moments of embroidery inspiration, and I think it is so funny that I actually wrote about the little stitched hen, "It needs somewhere to go... " and now it definitely has a home. I think the actual hen-in-a-heart sampler is still packed somewhere. Using her sweet skills and magic, Holly took elements from my flossed design and turned it in to a new header for Chickenblog... but she did not stop there...


She also took a baby Betty photograph and made me a third header. Now I can go with seasons and moods. I feel so sophisticated, like I have a big girl blog. In color. With features and lights.

I hope I can recover the Luna Hen Header, and there was even a header before that... did I lose that one too? It was purple and had flowers. I loved it. Double crud.

Has it really been two years, since little Lady Betty Orpington came home with us? The proof is in the post, I guess. Betty is almost two years old. And Chciekneblog is almost eight years old, and I still mistype c-h-i-c-k-e-n every time.


Ooh. I am so buzzy with inspiration. There are about five flavors of parties I would like to have, and I can easily imagine having a blogiversary give-away. I want to embroider some more, and finish quilts. I have these ideas about science gatherings, potlucks, movie nights, building garden beds, making a real hen house, and road trips along the coast.

And of course chicks. I got chicks on the brain! I realize this probably should wait, but I cannot deny it: I have chicky fever! It's no good pretending Betty needs company, because she would most likely abuse any cute-fluffy intruders. It's no good pretending to be naive and innocent, bringing chicks home in a lunch sack, like I did the first time. I know better. And Geoff would smell that lie a mile away. Ugh: Feh for *responsibility.*

Sigh.

One thing at a time, I suppose. If I get more corners of the Bird House de-cluttered, I think Geoff will feel inclined to indulge me on some of my whims and flights of fancy.

Is it spring? I feel so light.