Twinkle, twinkle, little bug.

Wonder of wonders! The First Lightning Bug Night has arrived! Every year I am delightfully surprised when these little twinkling jewels of the night appear. I've made a note on my calendar each Spring to mark their arrival.

Lightning bugs and lightning bug larvae are extremely beneficial for the lawn and garden. They feed on other insect larvae, worms, snails and slugs. Most of all, they enchant us and make our summer nights magical and beautiful.

First Lightning Bug of the Year


Twinkle, twinkle, little bug.

I want to give you a great big hug.

But, you're too tiny, I suspect.

Twinkle, twinkle, small insect.

I Have a Good Day, Now and Then

It looks like we are still talking about chickens.

As Aunt Pitty Pat would say, "Chickens on the internet! How did they ever get in?"

Plans are underway for the 5th annual Alabama Chicken and Egg Festival to be held on Saturday and Sunday, April 18-19, 2009, at the Lions Club Fairgrounds in Moulton, Alabama.
Of course, it would have to be in Moulton, where all the chickens are moltin’! Do you think that town was chosen just for the name?

According to the Alabama Department of Agriculture, agriculture is the number one industry in Alabama. It employs over 476,000 people, which is roughly 21% of the state’s work force. Furthermore, producing over 1 billion birds a year, Alabama is the #3 producer of chickens in the nation.The Lawrence County Arts Council, Alabama Department of Agriculture and Industries, Alabama Cooperative Extension Services, Lawrence County Chamber of Commerce and the Alabama Bureau of Tourism and Travel have joined forces to promote the Chicken and Egg Festival, hoping to educate the public on the economic impact and health values of poultry and eggs.

Here’s the Chicken and Egg Festival website.

http://www.alabamachickenandeggfestival.com/

Among other fun and unique activities, there will be a chicken clucking contest, an egg toss, a chicken-wing eating contest, Bluegrass music, Southern folklife artists, and more than 100 live Exotic Bantam Chickens.

And PAUL THORN!

Headlining the 2009 Chicken Stage is the Paul Thorn Band. One of the most accomplished and enjoyable musicians ever, Paul does blues, country, gospel, rhythm and blues, and rock ‘n’ roll. His distinctive voice and poetic lyrics have carried him from Tupelo, Mississippi to stardom!

Here's Paul Thorn performing his song "I Have a Good Day Now and Then," which has been recorded by Paul McCartney. No joke.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bk3WLyVQ9rM

You couldn't ask for much more than that.
.
Check out the festivities!

Mother Nature's Balancing Act

While on the subject of eggs ... Today is the First Day of Spring! I hope everyone popped out of bed bright and early this morning and balanced an egg or two! Although I usually balance a whole bunch of eggs on the first day of Spring, this morning I had but one single egg in the fridge. So I placed it on the window sill over the kitchen sink, and there she sits, beautiful, proud and well-balanced.

It's my understanding that the tradition of balancing eggs on the morning of the Vernal Equinox began centuries ago. Farmers gathering eggs noticed on a particular day in Spring that the eggs in each hen's nest would be balanced on end. What joy! There are few things in life as joyful as a balanced egg! That's how, in days of old, the common folk knew that Spring had arrived.

This year, the Vernal Equinox occurred at 6:44 AM, and the closer to the exact time of the equinox, the easier it is to balance eggs. Later in the day, it becomes a much more tedious exercise, and if you have balanced eggs in place, they will eventually plop over onto their sides when the magic time has passed.

And ... yum, yum ... do scrambled, fried, or poached eggs taste better on the first day of Spring? My opinion is, yes they do! A perfectly astronomically balanced egg is bound to have an extraordinarily yummy taste. However, this is only a guess. I'm always too busy balancing eggs to cook any on the First Day of Spring.

A Chicken After My Own Heart

On this beautiful St. Patrick's Day, the sun is shining and Spring is just around the corner, so it seems. I think about all the lovely sunny days ahead, and suddenly and without warning, I think about a chicken. That's right. Not just some random chicken, but a particular chicken with a singularly Irish personality; smart, handsome, and terribly testy.

My sister and I raised him from an orphaned egg.
The name we gave him was Chicken Little, and while he was yet very small, you couldn't have asked for a more agreeable little fellow. He was promptly baptised, showered with love, affection and attention, and treated like a member of the family. Chicken Little lived in a small cage on the living room coffee table, went with us on picnics, where he chased bugs and small snakes along the creekbank, and was just a marvelous companion. Even as an adolescent bird, he remained sweet and amenable to all playtime activities, like having doll clothes forced upon him and tiny bandanas tied around his pin-feathery head.

Chicken Little indeed! We should have named him George Meany. Upon reaching maturity, his personality took a foul turn! Man, that was one mean chicken! Of course, he had to be banned from the inside of our home, due to his lurking around corners and attacking like a chicken possessed. But putting him outside seemed to make matters worse. He hid just around the back of the house, and whenever one of us bare-legged humans ventured down the backporch steps, Chicken Little flew at us like a demon chicken, uttering the most terrifying pawks you can imagine, pecking and flogging without mercy.

Now, what would make a formerly benign chicken turn into a Jekyl & Hyde monster? Nobody knows.

So, my daddy traded him for two bunnies, a brown one and a gray one, dubbed Pierre and Twinkle Nose. They were promptly baptised, and NEVER attacked us.

I'll never forget Chicken Little. Both his personalities made lasting impressions, as did his "Top o' the mornin' to you!" greeting and his dagger-like beak.

Didn't It Snow, Children?

Quel surprise! On Sunday, March 1st, it actually did snow in Alabama. We all had a big time, and a few of us got to wondering about why snowflakes look the way they do.

Snowflake formation begins when water vapor condenses on microscopic dust grains. Each snowflake's unique structure is caused by chemical reactions and ever-changing temperatures.

Snow actually rises before it falls. As a droplet of water vapor rises higher, it freezes into a six-sided crystal. Because ice forms fastest around the edges, cavities form. Faster growth on corners causes branches to sprout, and cavities create interior lines. As the flake rises, temperatures get colder. At 10.4 degrees Farenheit, branches are wide. At 8.6 degrees, new growth is narrower. When the snowflake grows heavy enough to overcome the force of rising air, it falls. As the snowflake falls, warmer temperatures cause more side branches to sprout with longer and narrower tips. Hence, snow.

Some of us waited until many, many of the weighty formations plummeted to earth, then out we went for a rare frozen frolic.

At least one Mr. Possum found the lure of the soft white stuff irresistable, and trotted out for a brief stroll.

©Ramey Channell 2009

Possum In the Snow

Possum has a snowflake stuck to his nose.
His fur keeps him warm when the cold wind blows.
He's on his way home for tea and puddin'.
I asked him to come to my house, but he wouldn'.

Opossum or Not Opossum, That Is the Question

"A possum by any other name would still be a possum."

William Shakespeare

Today is a glum, grey, very still and quiet day. We've had several inches of rain, with the possibility of snow tonight or tomorrow. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Everyone I know is ready for SPRING. So, where is it? Ah, Spring! I see thee not, and yet I crave thee still! Willie S. said that.

So, it looks like we're talking about the Bard of Avon.

Shakespeare produced most of his known work between 1590 and 1613. His early plays were mainly comedies and histories, genres he raised to the peak of sophistication and artistry by the end of the sixteenth century. He then wrote mainly tragedies, including Hamlet, King Lear, and Macbeth, until around 1609 when he penned his most renowned work, MacPossum, a dazzling work of brooding gothic drama which set the standard for all literature to come. That's why possums, all and sundry, can be heard to mutter, "Double, double, toil and trouble." as they fumble around the countryside, looking for some style of mischief to get into.

Here in Alabama, we are most fortunate to have in residence possums of the highest literary nature. Just a few nights ago, upon hearing a little marsupialesque voice quavering "Oh, do not swear by the MOON!" I looked out my back door to see who spake thus. Sure enough, my eyes were blessed with the sight of two little bardies, munching on cat food as they carried on such an urbane and sophisticated discourse! Who could not love a possum?

Back to the Bard; Shakespeare biographers have documented the indisputable fact that people were barely able to walk around the Globe Theatre without stepping on the tails of Shakespeare's many pet possums, who hung around the place, and were, at that time, believed to bring good luck to actors, writers, and artists.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

A Delightful Man With a Funny Name

There's a book out there somewhere titled No, I Don't Want to Join a Bookclub. Though I haven't read it, I believe it's written by a middle-aged woman taking a stand against getting involved with all the fun stuff we get involved with as we mature.

Well, I am a member of a book club, I must admit. Called The Bookmarkers, we are twelve-or-so ladies who love to read good books, and we get together every so often to talk about the books we read. Now, doesn't that sound like fun? Everyone should join a bookclub; it's a brain-stretching activity.

The book we'll be reading next is Down the Garden Path by a fellow named Beverley Nichols.

Beverley Nichols was a multitalented British socialite who is apparently best remembered for his garden writings. Handsome, urbane, and possessed of a delightful sense of humor, Nichols has emerged as one of the most enduring garden writers of the previous century. He starred in movies in the 1920s, wrote music and songs for the theater, reported for newspapers, and wrote his own memoirs early on, plus numerous novels, mysteries, cat books, and biographies. Lucky for us, he loved plants, gardens, and the eccentric personalities associated with them.

Here's a wonderful Beverley Nichols website to click and view. Look at the Black Kitties!

http://www.timberpress.com/beverleynichols/index.cfm