More Prattling!

I just put nine beautiful, delicious, nutritious quarts of chicken broth in the freezer ready to be used in cookin' up some good vittles in the next few months.  There's also some tender and tasty chicken meat that will be used in a variety of ways.  Ya sure, you betcha, it takes many hours and some work to butcher your own home-raised (geriatric) birds, prep them for the freezer and then at a later date stew them, debone them, and strain and process the broth but I consider the time spent doing same as our health insurance.  The flavor of the broth (chicken meat, too, for that matter) is so much better than anything you can purchase that there's simply no comparison and makes it difficult to not produce our own at home.

Besides being up to my elbows in chicken parts, I worked out in the garden today doing clean-up.  Papa Pea wasn't too pleased when he saw me tearing out some of the flowers.  I had to sit him down and have a little talk about how it is time to move on.  Gardening season is over and it's oh-so-much easier for me to pull plants now (than after a couple of frosts have zapped everything deader than a door nail) and  before the ground is half frozen.

There was no stopping me.  I absolutely had to bake an apple pie first thing this morning.  There's something about the fall season that calls for baking with apples, don't you agree?

All summer long I've been putting in small (very small) chunks of time  on the scrap quilt I'm making for our king-sized bed.  To say it's proceeding slowly is the proverbial understatement.  Come on, Winter, I need some sustained hours of quilting time to get this project mooooving!

Most nights I'm actually too pooped to go into my quilt room so have been cozying down on the couch and crocheting a new rug for in front of the kitchen sink . . . in autumnal colors, of course.  It's about two-thirds of the way done.

Speaking of being tuckered out at night, I'm sitting here wiping the tears from my eyes which are being caused by me yawning so hugely.  Time to sign off.  At this rate, I may not even have the giddy-up to work on my rug tonight.