D is for Dead as in The Walking Dead Season Finale

I am participating in the A to Z challenge for the month of April

Remember where we left off?  Carol is missing.  Morgan is looking for her.  Rick has gone back to Alexandria to rally the troops.  Maggie is having some mystery pregnancy illness.  Daryl, Glenn, Michonne and Rosita have been captured by the Saviors and Daryl was shot.

D is for dead, as in the Walking Dead season finale.   D could also be for Dumb or Desperate of even dang annoying. 

We start out with Morgan walking through a field looking for Carol.   The first sign this episode is going to bite is the sign he comes across reminding him that he is alive. Anything so obviously telling the audience that people are alive surely means someone is going to die.  Next he runs into a horse with a saddle and has a talk telling the horse he is alive, which is nice but makes me curious, how has this horse managed to survive the walkers when darn near every other domestic animal has gone missing.   Obviously this is the horse the guy Rick almost shot but didn't thanks to Morgan lost last week.   More on him later but it will likely be a thank God Rick didn't kill him moment to balance out the I wish Daryl had killed Dwight moments of the last few weeks.

Cheer Cheer the gangs all here!

Next we head to Alexandria where Carl decides his too big for himself britches need to be aired out so he will be going with his father.   Enid wants to come, I want to talk some sense into both of them.  Stay home and shut up.   Remember what happened to the last troubled kid?  He got his entire family eaten. 

Meanwhile Rick entrusts all of Alexandria to Father Gabriel because he is ready to lead the world as we know it now that he has taken a life.   Gabriel says not to worry he has it under control.  His first priority will be Judith's safety followed by defense of Alexandria.   He then asks Rick if he is sure that Rick trusts him to protect Alexandria.   Me:  Alexandria?  Dude the man is giving you his baby daughter to protect.  You haven't shown much of a track record in protecting anyone so far so I am thinking the real question needs to be are you capable of saving Judith?

That must have been one heck of a party!

Alright so Morgan finds Carol who doesn't want to be found.  Carol is bleeding and looks like she is about to pass out about every 2 seconds.  Still, she tells Morgan to shove off.  He doesn't and takes her inside to rest. 

Road Block 1

Rick and the Scooby gang set off in the Mystery Machine, ah, RV to get Maggie some help.  It really sucks that Dwight just happened to kill the only doctor in town two episodes ago because if Denise were still around, we wouldn't be dealing with the gang on the run. 

Apparently Negan and his troops are waiting, pretty much everywhere for Rick.  No matter where they go, they come across a bunch of Negan's henchmen, over and over, and over again.  Rick and one of the Saviors get into a deep discussion about never knowing which day is your last day on earth mixed in with an all you need is love talk.  My thoughts while I was watching this?  First this guy telling Rick about appreciating his folks is bad news.  Someone is going to die.  Why would Rick pick a fight with a group when he knows nothing at all about them?  Alexandria's resources are depleted and unless I am missing something, a ton of the residence have been killed in the last 6 months.  It seems by now that Rick would have, you know, done some research on Negan and the Saviors.  Maybe watched them and tried to figure out how many millions of them there are, exactly.   Eh, what do I know?  I am sure Rick has this covered.

Morgan has gone to town looking for what?  We don't know and when he comes back Carol is missing.  Hmm, since she said she wanted to be left alone and told Morgan to pound sand, it is a real shock that she would leave the moment he turns his back.  Anyway, Morgan sets out to find the missing and kind of crazy Carol.

Carol on the other hand is only half conscious and walking around town without any regard for her well being.  After nearly getting eaten by a walker with an elastic face she is attacked by the guy who survived the road block attack last week.   Okay, so savior number whatever has been shot (by Carol last week) and isn't much better off than Carol but he manages to overpower her and shoots her a couple times for good measure.   He starts to leave her in the street to die when Carol tells him that he can't just leave her, she isn't hurt enough to die.  She then explains that he is suppose to tell her to look at the flowers and pop her.  He is about to do just that when Morgan comes to the rescue.  After giving the guy a chance to walk away, Morgan kills him.  

Just about that time, low and behold the guy with the missing horse from last week shows up and he has a friend and his friend has a horse.  I don't know who these people in armor suits are but I am going to call them the Knights because well they are wearing some sort of protective gear/suit and they ride horses so who else would they be?  Anyway, the Knights offer Morgan and Carol sanctuary and they ride off into the sunset.  Well, kind of  anyway, I start saying to myself, Self, these Knight people may be able to help Rick and the Scooby gang if only they have the power and the numbers to help them overthrow Negan. 

Road Block 457

Meanwhile the Scooby gang is still trying to find a way around Negan and all the road blocks.  There was a wall of walkers and a burning wall of logs and still the gang traveled on, round and round in circles, trying to get Maggie to a doctor, any doctor, a witch doctor would do.  Maggie is looking hard up and is burning up with fever.  Let's see, Maggie has the pregnancy flu?  Maggie and Rick have a conversation about how all they have ever been able to rely on is each other and that they are going to be fine because they always have been.  I am expecting him to add in "We happy few.  We band of brothers" any moment but he just keeps going on about their happy little group and yes, we all know someone is going to die.

So Rick and Eugene have a pow-wow and Eugene decides to take off in the RV alone while the Scooby gang carries Daphne Maggie to Hill Top.  Anyone else watch this and think, The Saviors know when you are sleeping, they know if your awake, they know if you are walking in the woods so get the heck out for goodness sake?

Well, our gang didn't pick up on the obvious, there is no way to Hill Top theme and they all got captures.  Good news, they were reunited, first with Eugene then with Glenn, Daryl, Michonne, and Rosita.  

Eventually everyone is brought together, kneeling down so they can meet the acquaintance of King Arthur and Excalibur circa 2016. 

Rick needs a bath and some serious vacation time

Daryl was shot last week but he is alive, or is he?

When Negan finally steps out from door number 1 , he starts to tell the gang about how upset he was that they killed his men, then he sent men to kill them and they killed those men too.  Well, darn the luck.  Next he puts two and two together and figures out that Rick and Carl are father and son.  It must be because they look so nothing alike. 

Negan

Negan has a little conversation where he calls Carl a future serial killer.  (I guess it takes one to know one?)  Negan tells everyone if they move during the next part, he will poke out Carl's eye and feed it to Rick.   Meanwhile he tries to pick who he is going to introduce in that very special way to Lucille.

Lucille

Finally, fate decides and we see the bat and hear some muffled screaming and it seems clear that Negan killed the cameraman by the blood splattered all over the lens.  This throwing blood at the camera thing is getting old.  That is two weeks in a row.  Come up with something better.
 Fade to black.

I want to hate Negan but anyone who gives Carl crap can't be all that bad, can he? 

I want to like this episode but I seriously don't understand the cliffhanger.  Wouldn't it have been just as miserable to know who Negan apparently killed and spent all summer saying Daryl of Glenn or Maggie or whoever isn't really dead, right?  I mean, I know Game of Thrones did this with John Snow and we all know somehow John Snow is coming back but why not let us cry ove the loss and worry all summer long.  Now I kind of just don't care.

My guess, and it is only that, is that Eugene was the one killed.  I am thinking that only because he had a really sad look on his face and he gave Rick the recipe for bullets.  Still, this is suppose to be a shocking event and if they want shock they kill...well, I would kill Maggie.  I mean there can't be anything more shocking than a pregnant woman getting beaten to death with a bat.  

Hubs has been saying he is done with this show for months and I am starting to feel like that is what everyone should be saying.  This cliffhanger was a Jump the Shark moment and I just don't care.

C is for Chickens 101

Chickens:

I never dreamed I would grow up and be a totally awesome chicken chick, it just happened.  My husband is actually responsible for sharing the love of chicken raising with me.   It is my fault, however, that we have 30 chickens.   I fell in love with them as babies and then fell in love with the different breeds and eggs and I became set on having chickens that were cool, cute, and gave me Easter colored eggs every day of the year. 

When I was talking to hubs about this blog challenge he said I should do eggs for E.  I said, no because I am doing chickens for C and since chickens came first for us, eggs are just going to be part of the C.

So let's talk eggs.  Did you know they come in colors beyond white and brown?  You can see in the picture below that my eggs are white, brown, green, and sort of a pinkish beige color.  I have some eggs that come out looking like they are polk-a-dotted. 

The egg color is actually determined by the breed of hen and there is absolutely no significance to the shell color and nutrition or taste.  The shell color is simply the shell color. 

What about nutrition and taste though?  Are all eggs created equal?  Not by a long shot.   Pasture raised chickens lay a dark yellow/orange yolk that is rich and much more flavor filled than a cage or so called free range chicken.   Pasture raised eggs also should be more nutrition packed than eggs from chickens who aren't running around eating bugs, my flowers and vegetable garden, and quality feed. 

When you are looking for the most tasty, rich, and nutritious eggs, you should find a local chicken farmer and see if they are willing to sell their eggs or better yet, build a coop and start your own backyard chicken ranch.  You don't need 30.  Two or three will do most people nicely.

I want to explain a few things about store labels.  There has been a big movement to cage free eggs.  Cage free hens are only slightly less tortured than caged animals.  It is terrible that chickens, who have so much personality and character, are forced to live their life in a cage but the label cage free is really misleading.   What most people believe when they are buying cage free, organic eggs, is actually what they would get by buying pasture raised eggs. 

My chickens are outside all day and don't go to bed until the sun sets.  Between dawn and dusk my chickens are running around my yard and sometimes my neighbor's yard.   They roam.  Is it dangerous?  Yes, we do lose some to predators and this has been a hard lesson for me.   I can't stop the chicken hawk or coyote but I also can't stand the thought of making my birds stay in a closed in area, grass or no grass, all day long.

Speaking of grass or no grass, the cage free raised chickens are not required to actually have grass.  It is sad really, what some misinformed Hollywood stars and the media try to pass as the kinder, gentler chicken farming. Cage free chickens may never even get outside.  Free range chickens go outside but they may only be out for an hour a day and they aren't required to have access to grass.   The labels are really misleading and the eggs are super expensive for what you are actually getting. 

Understand this, people who raise their own chickens probably aren't doing it to get rich.  I sell very few eggs, give a bunch to family and neighbors who take care of them when we are out of town, and eat the rest.  Feed isn't cheap and although my girls and boys (Yes, I have roosters, 3 to be exact) aren't picky, they do like to have some cracked corn or better yet, fresh corn along with a few treats like cabbage and whatever else I can find on sale at the grocery to keep them out of my garden.  

Chickens are very entertaining.  It is amazing how much time I spend out in the backyard just talking to and watching these little balls of goofy.   Did you know that chickens are the closest living relative to dinosaurs?   Watch them walk and it will make sense. 

So, in the end, I would say, chickens, while not the smartest animal alive, are incredibly fun, well, except for the cleaning the coop.

B is for Baseball!

 Baseball.

If antiques are my hobby, baseball is my mistress.  My love for the game goes back to childhood but one could argue that it is genetic.  My grandfather was in major league camp with a team that plays in St. Louis when he slid into second base and broke his ankle.  This was in the 20's I believe.   He went back home to recover and his mother, my great grandmother became ill.  Him being the only one available, his baseball career ended when he had to take care of his mother. 

My mother grew up on baseball.  My brother and I learned our love of the game from her.  When we went on vacation, we always went somewhere that had a major league team.  We would spend our summer vacations going from one amusement park and ballpark to the next.  

My first memory of baseball is Wrigley Field and the Chicago Cubs.  I spent my summers watching day games from Wrigley and we finally took a trip to the ballpark when I was about 9.  I loved the game and the place.  

Finally, when my mother decided to relocate from Indiana, one of the things she made sure of, was that we had a baseball team to cheer.  This is how I went from being a Chicago Cubs fan to a Texas Rangers fan.  For years my joke was that between the two clubs I had 150 years of pointless baseball. 

That all changed in 2010 when my Texas Rangers went to the World Series for the first time and I went with them.  I had never experienced anything like a World Series game and so in 2011 when the Rangers went back, I was at every game played in Arlington.  After the collapse in game 6 and eventual lose in game 7 of that season, I assumed a fetal position for about 6 months.  The thing about giving yourself over to a team, a game, is that you eventually end up living and dying with the game. 

Last year I got to share playoff baseball with my husband for the first time.  That was amazing for a few reasons, first is that he is a Dallas Cowboy fan and only watches baseball when he has nothing better to do.   Also, he takes a football approach to baseball which has caused marital strife more than once.  Finally, I came to the conclusion that I could not talk with him about baseball so I would just enjoy some games with him and let him have his own opinion.   This wasn't easy.

Many people don't actually understand the lure of the game of baseball.  There isn't the constant action like football.  There isn't the fast pace like basketball and hockey.  There is a soft and gentle torture to baseball and the season itself.  On opening day the season seems endless but before you know it, September rolls around and the mad dash for playoff spots begins.  My football fan husband will tell you that there is no point to 1 game of 162 game season but again, that is because he doesn't understand.  The game won in May means as much as the game won in September.  Baseball is a marathon not a sprint.  If you lose a game in May and lose a playoff spot by one game, that game means as much as any loss.   The problem is the casual baseball fan doesn't understand, can't comprehend the importance of a single game.  The truth is, each game matters just as much as the rest but, like a good mystery novel, you don't know everything until the end of the season. 

But baseball is slow for other reasons.  It is the only game without a clock.   Nine innings may be played in an hour and a half or it could take five hours.  There is no overtime in baseball, we have extra innings.  I have been to a game that lasted over 18 innings.  By the time that game ended, I didn't care who won, I just wanted the game to end.  The Rangers won but not before I was red as a lobster from the hot Texas sun.  Rules are rules however and in baseball, you play until you don't.

Baseball rules don't change, they remain the same basic rules that have existed for over a century, in organized sport.  Speaking of organized baseball, it is the oldest sport.  The National League was founded in 1876 and is known as the senior circuit.  The American League came to existence in 1901.  They play by the same basic rules except one, the American League has the designated hitter and the National League does not.  This means that the pitcher hits in the NL and you will rarely ever see a pitcher hit outside of interleague play in the AL.  Did you know however, that the DH rule didn't start until 1973?  Up until that time, both leagues had pitchers hitting.

To put in perspective how old baseball is in comparison to other sports, the NHL started in 1917, the NFL started in 1920, and the NBA didn't begin until 1946.   It isn't a surprise to find out that baseball began as America was celebrating it's 100 year anniversary.   There is no sport more tied to our past and part of our present than baseball.  Oh, I know many people will argue (my husband among them) that America is a country of football fans.   Believe me, I live outside Dallas Texas.  I understand people love football.  I would argue however, that baseball is the true sport of this country. 

Baseball is the only sport playing on July 4th and what holiday is more American than July 4th? American's are proud of our romantic history from the founding fathers to the victories of World War II and beyond. Baseball is a romantic love affair between a team, players and fans.  Obviously it is played on a diamond.  What is more romantic that a diamond?  Baseball is a long haul.  It starts in the spring and ends in the fall and along the way are many lazy, warm or in the case of Texas Rangers baseball fans, very hot and sometimes miserably hot, summer nights.  Baseball is not played in a stadium, it is played in a park.  Parks are friendly, unique and welcoming, stadiums are big, bland, and uniform.  No two baseball fields are the same, unlike the rest of the sports who have the exact same playing field no matter what stadium you visit.    Baseball and hot dogs go together and add a beer and you have America.  Americans are loyal and no fans are more loyal and true than baseball fans.  Think about it, they have to commit to at least 6 months for their team and longer if they make the playoffs.  I have really never met better people than baseball fans. *Yankee fans are excluded from this, naturally.

In the end, baseball is as much a mental game as anything else. I like football, especially college football, but I don't have to watch the game and think.  Mostly I just sit back and see what plays happen.  In baseball I am constantly thinking about offensive or defensive plays.  To bunt or not to bunt, that is the question.  To hit and run? To sacrifice fly?  What is the best strategy?   Baseball fans are constantly thinking about the game.  Some need an intervention, it's true.   Loyal and smart fans, that is baseball.

What is your favorite sport or team?  Do you have  a love affair with them?

A is for Antiques, Old Stuff and stuff that just looks old

My newest oldest!

I am seriously in love with this piece.  I cleaned it up a little and beautiful! 

The pulls are amazing and the detail is charming! 

I saw a definition of Antique on Facebook the other day that said: Grandma had them, Mom sold them, I bought them back.    That pretty much explains my life in a nutshell.   My grandmother's kitchen was filled with a big old stove, a tiny refrigerator and the most amazing collection of cookie jars and cute things you have ever seen.  In that kitchen, on that big old stove, she baked some of the most amazing, love filled concoctions you could dream off and made the worst spaghetti on earth. My grandmother was Hungarian and somehow Italian food cooking was not something she could master.  It could be the tomato juice she used instead of pasta sauce.  That's just a guess.

My dream kitchen will have one of those big old stoves from the 1940's in white with red trim and if I can ever afford to replace the cookie jar my mother lost (shout out to mom who I still adore even though she lost the Little Red Riding Hood cookie jar promised to me by grandma when I was 7), that will be added someday.    I have had a love affair with history since I was a kid and today it translates into old stuff and junk.

The piece above is my latest purchase.   It is amazingly charming, old and well loved.  I have no idea how old it is exactly but what I do know about it is that it came from a friend of mine who is moving to Minnesota and that I fell in love with it the minute I saw it.  My friend said to me, "You could paint it and make it awesome."  I replied that this is not a 'paint it' piece.  This is a keep it like it is and put it somewhere to show it off piece.

I can't tell you exactly how I know not to paint this except that it is in really good condition, really pretty the way it is,  and I knew immediately that painting it would be a tragedy.

I have a love affair affair with old junk treasures.  Some of the stuff is awesome and some has potential.  Some needs to be painted and some doesn't.  My entire house is a work in progress and I am slowly filling it with well loved pieces or making stuff looked well love.

I have found pieces in the trash pile at my recreational land in East Texas.  Yes, my land has it's own trash pile.  There is no trash pickup out in the country and the people that lived there years and years ago just tossed everything in a pile. We take our trash with us when we leave but that doesn't fix the pile problem.  Truthfully, it scares me but I managed to find an amazing old bucket that I turned into a hanging planter so I got past my fear.

My kitchen is only 45 years young and at some point in the 90's someone did a remodel on it. They didn't do a really good job and the kitchen is terribly small.  When I moved in, the cabinets were all white and they looked hideous.  It wasn't a pretty white or a clean white and frankly, with no disrespect to all of you out there (and you are the majority) who love white cabinets, the artist in me is bored with white.   I kind of run to the beat of a different drum and my drum said turquoise and red 1950's style kitchen.   I distressed the cabinets and made them look old and thank heavens, my husband loves them.   Just a side note here, these cabinets are awesome.  Everyone who comes into my house just loves them.  The black isn't quite as dark in person but I am so glad I used a black glaze on them.  It has been over a year since I redid them and I am not even considering painting them which is a miracle for me. 

Do you remember these end tables your grandmother had?  These things were all the rage in the 1970's and they fit my home perfectly since it was built in 1970.   I don't do pieces from one single era because I like a lot of different things (None of which are mid-century mod)
but this was something I was determined to find and redo.   I like to think that when you save these pieces to love another lifetime, you are doing the earth a favor and yourself.  I have to apologize for this photo.  It is the best I have of them because the lighting in my living room even with every lamp turned on, is not good.   This is actually a lovely creamy mint green color paint with brown antique glaze for age.  No distressing.  (BTW, yes, I know I need a new camera.  I am using my iPhone because I lost the program for my Point and Shoot Sony and I want a 'real' camera next time but budget has to be met first!)

Lime finished Chest

This old chest of drawers, which I have featured in this blog more than once, and I never manage to feature with the actual handles that are on it, is amazing.  It was in terrible condition and had to be painted.  Unlike the buffet above, this piece needed serious TLC just to make it work.  I basically had to rebuild half the drawers.  I love how this chest turned out.   I had it for sale and nobody has ever purchased it and that is just fine by me. I realize that everyone doesn't need a high chest of drawers and the thing that is in vogue right now is the wide dressers that you can turn into media cabinets.   The thing is, this chest has character that mass produced furniture just doesn't have. It is probably 60 years old, maybe more, and when I was refinishing it, I thought about the families that used it before me.  The hopes and dreams and laughter and sadness this piece witnessed over the years.   This piece took an incredible amount of work and it doesn't photograph as well as it should but it is simply beautiful.   So pretty in fact that it is the inspiration for my guest bedroom remodel.   The queen bed that I have for the room will be finished in a antique grey and the colors for the bedroom will be white, yellow, blue, and grey.

So yes, I love antiques and old junk.  Whether you make something look old or find a new use from something that is old, there is nothing more amazing that bringing new life to something that was once well loved and should be again.

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