The Luck Of The Irish

We are starting early on the St Patrick's Day festivities.

Austin came home from school a couple days ago and asked, "We're Irish, right, Mom?"

Sarah butted in and said, "Yes.  We're also Native."

I think she meant savage, not native.

But, yes, we are mostly Irish and German.  My maternal great, great, great, great, great, grandfather, John Fluharty, settled in Marion County, West Virginia in the 1690s.  My maternal grandmothers spit out 10-13 kids for the next four generations so it's possible if you are from West Virginia, I'm related to you.

I found a clutch of teeny, tiny eggs today.  My Foster chickens have started laying in a garbage can in Bob's backyard.

I have no idea when that started so I did the float test to see if they were good.  If they sink, they are good. If they float, they're bad.

They're good so we're eating them.

When chickens first start laying, their eggs are so tiny.  Look how little the one in the middle is.  I'm so excited.  We were already getting 7-8 eggs a day.  Now we should be getting 10!!!!!  WOW!

Amanda has been needling me for chicks.  I'm thinking maybe we have enough now???????

Greg's friend is in town for the St Patrick's Day festivities.  Greg has made a miraculous, complete and total recovery just in time to get drunk tomorrow.

It's the luck of the Irish!!!