(I posted this to Storytell, and then decided to share it here too)
My gift from Larry was not under the tree.
In fact, it's not even bought yet.
What I want is chickens--laying hens. I've had chickens for lamost all of the past 40 years, but for the past two months I've been chicken-less. Our hens got too old to lay and went to that great chicken house in the sky. We re-did the henhouse, bought new nestboxes, whitewashed the walls, spread lime, got everything ready.
But we still haven't bought any chickens. So when Larry asked me what I wanted for Christmas, the answer was easy: chickens. He wasn't surprised. Last year I asked for 10 tons of gravel for my parking place. I got tired of dodging the mud trying to get to work and still look professional when I got there (muddy shoes don't make the cut). The gravel has delighted me all year, and it should hold for another two years.
Chickens will last a while too--I can usually keep them laying for 5 years or longer. And it's a gift that keeps giving. Like the gravel.
Some people tell me I'm easy to please when it comes to gifts. But you try wrapping a chicken or a ton of gravel. My husband deserves sainthood.
That's great! I got snow boots. I've not had a new pair of snowboots since I was a child. All through Jr. High and High School(I graduated 13 years ago) and all the way up to this last year I had a pair of boots my mom bought at a yard sale, wore a few years and then passed on to me. Last year I finally gave up and threw them away because of the large hole in the bottom of them. Aaron bought me a new pair this year. I don't think he quite realizes what that means to me. They are a really nice pair of insolated, no hole in the bottom, boots. I'd prefer a pair of snow boots to a diamond anyday.
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