P U at the Palace

Hmm, wind, rain, sleet and snurries made little time for chickie girls to be out and about this week, so Cluckingham was a little smelly. All it takes is turning over the litter and opening the front and back doors and the P U is gone. Wish all P U's in life were so easily dealt with, don't you?
I was fairly determined, when I got the girls, to be the primary coop cleaner. Handy Man is as unaccustomed to seeing me wield a shovel as I am in wielding one. I know people have issues with it, but we just never have. I do the traditional girl stuff, and he does the traditional guy stuff. I'm just not in anyway insulted by him scraping my wind shield, starting my car and toting all the heavy stuff. It doesn't hurt his feelings to find his supper on the table and clean socks and underwear appear on his bed, placed there no doubt, by the good laundry fairy. So, when I clean the coop, Handy Man just stands and looks at me-the whole time. He's waiting, I know, for the familiar, "Gee, this is heavy," or " Aghhh, there's a mouse, snake, wildebeest (you get the idea) in these poopy chickie wood chips." Alas, far too familiar, " Ummm, I don't want to do this anymore." Then he will save me, just like in the fairytales, just like in our daily living.
I am of a grateful heart for all this saving through the years, but in the hen house, I persevere and he watches, that sweet man.

Handy Man models Christ to me in that way. My decisions, to do things on my own in my own way, aren't always as purposeful as coop cleaning. When it gets too heavy, when I come to my senses, and realize my idea wasn't such a good one, I turn to One who hasn't forgotten, but was just waiting and watching, ever forgiving and loving.

I love that I can celebrate Him where I work. This week was the Christmas Musical. I'm sort of in charge of the drama, costumes, etc. I mean, seriously, it was the sweetest play. The message was the one of our hearts and has a place in our school, but especially sweet, because two students, no one would've expected to find on stage, were the stars.

I have always had a heart for little boys that most teachers, people in general, find a bit out of control. I have no clue why. I really have to fight all year to not play favorites. I got a little guy this year, who came with a reputation. My school is small and we all know each other, so every time I talked to the parents through the years, they would say, " Just wait till you get Mr. Question Man!!!." I replied, "I am not scared." Now, he can't easily let anything go, and he thinks I am his personal encyclopedia, but I love this boy.
Crazier still, is the way I love quiet, backward, hard working girls. Ummm, no idea. Of course, I always have at least one and this year was no exception. My little wallflower would easily fade herself right into the woodwork, just working her fanny off and being good.
Mr. Question desperately wanted a part in the play and Wallflower wanted no part in being front and center. So, I threw caution to the wind, asking myself, "Where else will Mr. Question be allowed this opportunity?" Then, I shamelessly pulled that, "I will do anything for you teacher" card on Wallflower, and she reluctantly acquiesced. Both of them shocked and amazed us all, in addition to making us all cry.
I'm crazy over nativity sets, and have too many, of every make and model, but no matter how they appear, every Joseph I snuggle in the straw with Mary and the baby will wear the face of my sweet boy, Mr. Question. Each time I see Hawaiian stuff, Wallflower's beautiful face will be on my mind. Precious!

14 to 16 eggs a day this week. The girls knows we're getting ready for Christmas