A, um, new Lenten commitment

Our main meal this fast day was simple and light. We were having soup and sandwiches, with fruit salad and macaroni and cheese. I had already made the soup: cream of tomato for me, and vegetable for everybody else. Jason was stopping after Mass to get some white cheddar and a "surprise" for the kids, and I would head home to make grilled cheese.

Ash Wednesday

I really do know how to make grilled cheese sandwiches under the broiler; and I had in fact already finished a larger batch of them. But the broiler is a tricky thing to get right it once it's hot. You have to watch it, because timing it according to your usual usage doesn't work, and if you insist on using the top rack to finish the last two sandwiches because it's faster, you better not be dealing with a hormonally altered brain and juggling other food prep when your husband introduces a new distraction in the form of a "surprise."

Eight little chicks on my kitchen counter.

He let me know that my face upon seeing a gaggle of excited kids present me with a box of chicks was something to behold.

Oh, it's been part of our plan to raise chickens for ourselves for a while. He's been threatening preparing me for the step, and although I shared that I didn't feel myself ready for the responsibility, I agreed that it was an important goal, and it would be good for the kids to learn to take care of them. As long as I didn't have to do anything.

I know nothing about raising chickens, Jason having done the research to get started. I do know a little about the mortality rate of chicks and am therefore fearful for my nerves. I have no desire to discourage this new phase, though, of which I know this is only a first step. The kids have been excited all evening about these little guys.


Aren't they heartbreakingly cute?

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