A Happy, Friendly Rooster

I was doomed from the moment my room-mate read the ad in the newspaper. He had already brought home two hens. We built them a pen, they seemed content, they gave us fresh eggs. Life was good!

Then he read the ad. Life as I knew it was about to end.

Just in case you were wondering, there is no such thing as a happy, friendly rooster. There is definitely no such thing as a happy rooster who has just been transplanted from the only home he has known.

There was no longer easy eggs to be had. Entering the chicken coop became a dance of self preservation. The rooster (whose name, I admit has now been blocked from my mind), would attack you the moment you entered. I had to bring a shovel, or rake, or any sort of large object to fend him off while I grabbed the eggs, not turning my back to him for even a moment.

I loved having eggs, I even enjoyed the crowing in the morning - it reminded me of my time in the Peace Corps - but I did not enjoy being attacked! If you are ever considering getting a rooster, seriously reconsider. Please - happy, friendly roosters are not real...

This post was inspired by Buddy: How a Rooster Made Me a Man a memoir by Brian McGrogry. When Brian his bachelor life to move to suburbia and join his girlfriend with her two young daughters, he had no idea he needed to win over their rooster too. Join From Left to Write on November 21 as we discuss Buddy: How a Rooster Made Me a Man.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Sometimes You Need People

I could not have gotten through being a new mom by myself. 

First, I had an amazingly supportive husband. He was there with me through the good and the bad! 

My parents were always ready to help - my dad took care of all the non-baby stuff during that first week :) My mom was in the delivery room with me. My sister and Chris made sure that I got FOOD after 27 hours without sustenance! All of my family was ready to help in any way possible.

My neighbors brought me soup, my co-workers gave me thoughtful gifts and checked in on me. 

In addition to the "in real life" friends, we also live in a day and age where you can connect with communities of other new moms instantly. I was never alone. If I had a question, other new moms had already asked it. If I was up feeding the little guy at 3 am, other moms were up to chat with too. 

I was never alone. I had support and help from an amazing group of people - some whom I have yet to meet. I can't imagine having to face being a new mom alone. It's quite a crazy ride.

I know many women have not had the support I have, and that there are many out there that could use some help. I can't imagine living in a time or place where I had to raise a baby alone - and hope everyone gets the help and support they need!

This post was inspired by the book The Funeral Dress by Susan Gregg Gilmore.

No one has ever entrusted impoverished Emmalee with anything important but she takes it upon herself to sew her mentor’s resting garment in The Funeral Dress by Susan Gregg Gilmore. Join From Left to Write on Octiber 14 as we discuss The Funeral Dress.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Oh my God, Cheese!

I love cheese. I am not sure I can fully put into words how much I love cheese. Truly.

Growing up, my only recollection of cheese is cheddar. Sharp, medium, mild. Cheddar. I have vague recollections of orange cheese in plastic, but I won't really let those surface, better to keep that a secret.

My world exploded, in a good way, when I studied overseas in college. I spent six months in Germany, and cheese was an entirely new world. My favorite part of the week was on Fridays, when the interns got to go out and buy food for the office. We bought amazing breads, fruit and Cheese. There was this incredible farmer's market in the town square. I literally had no idea that there were so many cheese options possible. 

Not only did we get to choose cheese for our two daily coffee breaks (did I mention work weeks were 35 hours and there were two food breaks on addition to lunch every day? Heaven?), but every two weeks there was an extra special purchase...from the cheese man

The Cheese Man showed up randomly with a package under his arm. A smelly, cloth covered package.  Out of the depths of darkness, he would pull out gross looking, horribly smelly cheese. It was homemade cheese from rural Germany - a different kind every time. I was stunned that the cheese was so good, and full of depth and flavor Just thinking about it makes me incredibly nostalgic.

I clearly need to go back to Europe. Or I need to find my own Cheese Man....hmmmm...

p.s. I was amazed to learn that cows get mastitis from over-milking, poor cows, crazy!

This post was inspired by the book The Whole Fromage by Kathe Lison, who traveled to France in search of its artisanal cheeses. Join From Left to Write on August 22 as we discuss The Whole Fromage.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

A Day When Perspective Shifts

I spent a day alone in Mexico City a decade ago.

It was one of those days that changes your perspective on life. Something shifts. I was walking down the street, with so much humanity, breathing in a new culture. I remember the song playing on the radio  was "Californication." I can see the vibrant colors, dirty streets, and smell the food. An attractive guy - with long dark hair and a copy of "Love in the Time of Cholera" in his hands - asked me to lunch, though I declined, I still remember smiling.

Feeling free and breathing deeply, I decided on a whim to visit a a museum exhibit showcasing torture devices (not sure why?). I don't remember too much about the beginning of the exhibit - though there was some disturbing apparati. What I remember was the very last room.

Sitting in the middle of a room all to itself was an electric chair.

I had never thought about the death penalty as torture before. I had thought about the death penalty, and I had thought about what it means to kill someone, both the criminal and the state. I had never thought of the actual act of strapping someone to an electric chair as being viewed as a form of torturing another human being. I had never thought other countries thinking of something legal in the US as torture.

It was a mind shifting perspective for a young idealistic Peace Corps Volunteer. It stuck with me, informs my views to this day. It opened my eyes to other views, expanded circles of influence. I still remember that day. Once day can shift your whole perspective.

This post was inspired by the novel The Execution of Noa P. Singleton by Elizabeth L. Silver. Mere months before Noa’s execution, her victim’s mother changed her mind Noa’s sentence and vows to help stay the execution. Join From Left to Write on July 30 as we discuss The Execution of Noa P. Singleton.. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Am I All Grown Up Yet?

Disclaimer: As a Member of From Left to Write, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

I've yet to think of myself as an "all grown up." I know, I know, I'm 36, I'm married, I have a son, I own a home, I'm a manager at work, I am saving for retirement and making car payments. I know that I am an adult, but I don't feel all grown up. I feel like I still have so much of life ahead of me. Goals to reach, things to do, places to visit and so much to learn. But I think a part of it is that I am lucky to have healthy, active parents that don't need my assistance. My grandma is still learning new tricks - she's newly on facebook!

I know that I am lucky in this. That my sisters and I can still depend on my parents and not the other way around. That my aunts and uncles are around to watch out for my grandma, to make sure that she is ok and safe and getting visits from great-grandkids. I live in that perfect time, when I am an adult and have a healthy child and healthy parents and a wonderful grandma. I hope this time continues forever.

My wish for everyone is health and happiness and long lives where all your wishes come true.

I wish you friends, family and lots of love.

I hope you have someone to take care of you and be there when you need support.

I hope I never really have to grow up :)

This post was inspired by the novel Those We Love the Most by Lee Woodruff. Every family has its secrets and deceptions, but they come to surface a tragic accident changes the family dynamic forever.. Join From Left to Write as we discuss Those We Love the Most. You can also enter to win a live video chat with Lee Woodruff!

Into a Burning Building

I know that I would run into a burning building to save my child.

I know this with utter certainty. 

Before I became a mom - saving someone's life was always something I thought I would do if I were in a life or death situation. Logically I could say "yes" I would put my life on the line for someone else's. I would hope that I would have. 

Now, as a mother, I know it. I don't even know how I can explain the change in certainty. 

My son is a part of me. He is my breath, my life, my hope for the future. 

My heart would break into a million little pieces if anything ever happened to him. I would have to be held back forcefully for me not to risk my life to save his. 

I love him fiercely.

I hope I never have to be in this situation, but I know what I would do if it came to it, there would be no doubt in my mind.



This post was inspired by the novel Afterwards by Rosamund Lupton. After witnessing her children's school set ablaze, Grace attempts to find the arson as her teenage daughter lies in a coma in Lupton's suspense thriller. Join From Left to Write on April 11 as we discuss Afterwards. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Brought to you by the letter "I"

Part of the A-Z blog challenge.