You know the saying - "Birds of a feather, flock together." Well that was certainly true this past weekend. A flock of AR peeps (peeps - birds, get it?) gathered in Southern California at Baking Nana's home for a festive holiday
gathering. A big thank you to her and No Baking Papa for opening their home and their hearts to these wayward travelers.
Home is where the heart is and peeps from all over the place migrated their way "home". California was well represented from one end of the state to the other while Arizona, Washington, Oregon, Nevada and Illinois (that's me!)
also flew in.
While Baking Nana will have done her blog about the party, I'd like to focus on a couple of the more unusual happenings during our party weekend.
Keeping with this blog's theme about birds, Candice from Oregon was going to be attending. Having met this lovely lady on other occasions, as well as Cat Hill and Soup Loving Nicole from the Midwest, they all share a common interest...chickens.
They raise their own chickens. While perusing various items at the checkout counter at our local Rural King store (can you tell we're in farm country?), I came across an item that would make a great gift for these three chicks. I sent the items to the Midwest
gals and personally gave Candice's gift to her and asked her to read the accompanying letter out loud. She asked if it was going to make her cry. Mmmm.... nope, don't think so.
To my fine feathered friends and little chickadees, some gorgeous chicks and the rulers of their roost, I couldn't pass up this opportunity to provide you with a little something for this holiday season.
Now I won't make any mention of old hens, spring chickens or pooped pullets because I don't want to ruffle any feathers.
You gals are fearless, not chicken-hearted, chicken-livered or hen pecked.
Wish we could all get up with the chickens and get together for a great hen party where birds of a feather can flock together.
And that's no chicken s**t! (Well maybe just a little...)
Lora (a/k/a Magnolia Blossom)
And the gift? A tube of Free Range Chicken Poop lip balm (and no, there isn't any icky stuff in it.) Everyone enjoyed a good laugh over that one. Especially after I read a text I had received from Cat Hill that day that said
"Well s**t the bed, I've got chicken poop on my lips."
And speaking of poop, on Friday a group of us went to Riverside to a great restaurant called Phood on Main where Chef Marla created her own seasoning line. Lissa thought she was seeing things when she saw a reference on the menu
to Super S**t. Whaat? Chef Marla discovered that we were AR peeps and entertained us with her stories about how she came to the area and her special blend of seasoning called Super S**t. There is no salt & pepper on the tables, just Super S**t, which can be
purchased from the restaurant as well as her other spice blends - Bull S**t (great on beef), Cow S**t (buttery), Jack S**t (cheesy), Hot S**t (self-explanatory), and No S**t (no salt). Still keeping our bird theme going, Chef Marla provides us with a tasting
of a restaurant specialty, Topless Duck (slow cooked duck thighs/no breast). All I can say is Holy S**t! That was good stuff.
What a wonderful weekend with friends, old and new! As I was "winging" my way back to Illinois on a relatively small bird (plane), I had a permanent grin plastered on my face as I was fondly recalling our adventures. Oh, wait...the
grin faltered somewhat, now a slight grimace. Why, you might ask? The problem with small planes? Poor air circulation...not a good thing when the guy in front of me had too many chicken enchiladas and the "end result" wasn't very pleasant. Where was that flight
attendant with the air mask when you need her? Poop!
Aaahh...back to my own feathered nest in Illinois. Sniff...already missing my fellow peeps. As in my past blogs of AR adventures, I encourage anyone that has a chance to meet an AR peep to take the opportunity to do so. You never
know where your next friend will come from.