Whiteley Creek Homestead

This afternoon, I discovered a set of dishes while sorting through some boxes we had stored in the attic of our pole building. (The design looks black in the photo… at least it does on my computer's screen, but it is really a very pretty green.) I remember boxing them up. The newspaper pages, that I had wrapped around each piece to protect them, were dated March 1998.  Eleven years is long enough for them to feel fresh and new again and ready for another go round, so into the dishwasher they went. I switched them out with ones I had in my cupboard which I boxed up to take to the local thrift shop. 

After digging through six more boxes, salvaging a few beverage glasses, and loading the remainder into the trunk of my car to donate, I grabbed a flat shovel and my wheelbarrow and headed to the chicken coop for some fall cleanup. It was sad and lonely there… no hens clucking, no hens at my heels anticipating veggie scraps, no freshly laid eggs to gather because a couple weeks ago we transported our hens to a neighboring farmer who will care for them over the winter months.

But the coop is cleaned and ready for their return in the spring…