That was another recent question by my daughter. Another one I couldn’t quite formulate an answer to. I’m thinking maybe it’s my pregnancy-lack-of-IQ that is more the problem.

Saturday was HOT and sunny here. Hubby took the girls to a kids Worship Workshop and I cleaned toilets and dishes. Then I borrowed the truck and went to the hardware store. I guess they don’t get a lot of obviously-pregnant women asking for lumber. I had figured my *ahem* … design… and ordered the appropriate pieces. The old boy behind the counter looked at me and said, “do you have a WAY to transport a 14-foot 2×4?” Are you kidding? I was gonna strap this stuff to my back with baling twine and haul it home. In any case, I bought the lumber and chicken wire and came home to build my … eyesore … in the driveway. I’ll have to take a picture of it, if it survives the day’s 30/40 mile winds. I made a new home for the broiler chicks. They’re a month old tomorrow and ugly as sin. I don’t know if I’ll post a picture of them on here. We’re down to … 30? I think; they’re dropping like flies and I don’t know why. I had to break down and buy 2 bags of medicated starter (land o’ lakes did away with the unmedicated kind, I guess), but have lately switched them to a mixture of whole grains and the vegetarian layer-ration I give the hens. I’m worried that it could be the extra calcium, but I don’t know for sure. It’s amazing that 30 small chickens can eat more weight per day than my 270 lb pig, but I think they do. Their ‘shelter’ was not easy to build, and I probably shouldn’t have done it in the heat of the day, but what is there to be done? I was certainly exhausted that night. Hubby went to a monster-truck thing with some guys from work, then hung out with them for a while. I stayed up till 12 watching a movie and he got back at 2. Bless his heart, he still gave me the foot rub he promised. I’d had the girls in bed just after 8. It hurt like crazy to go up and down the stairs, so I gave them very specific instructions to STAY in their room and BE QUIET. My eldest came downstairs once or twice; she wanted to check on the “sick chickie” (we had one quarantined in a rabbit cage). I told her she could carefully bring the cage up to the porch if she wanted, and then she MUST go to bed. This was about 8:45. Around 9:00 I thought I heard my youngest from a distance, and drug myself towards the sound. There were my girls, freshly bathed, in their jammies, sitting and playing in the freshly-rototilled dirt of the garden! Let me just say it was not the night to try my patience (and energy). And I had to retrieve the chicken cage anyway.

I need to get started soon on some homemade mozzarella. It doesn’t need to age in a cave, so I’m all set. I needed a couple teaspoons of citric acid, and wasn’t sure where to get such a thing in decent time, so I put in a word to my Supplier Of Such Things, and he thought he might know where he could acquire some. He asked how much I needed, and I said it wasn’t much. He thought he could get a half-pint or so, which would be great. When I met him to get the stuff, let’s just say he went overboard… I now have a brand new, unopened, 25-lb bucket of citric acid. I wonder if there are laws about dividing it and selling it. Is citric acid worth anything on ebay?