Oct. 25th

I’ve been looking for a chicken weathervane for a while.  A particular website sells some really beautiful ones but I was reluctant to buy one without seeing it in person.  Plus, this place is pretty pricey and I was having trouble nagging asking Jim to buy one for the house.  Then, in an odd twist of fate we were driving on Hwy 1 along the southern coast of Maine, when I spied a shop on the side of the road with the exact weather vanes I’d been coveting for months.  Weathervanes of Maine was indeed the very place.  I yelled, “Pull over, pull over!” and Jim felt his wallet shiver in his back pocket.  I was actually drawn first to the cute flying pig until I saw this chicken displayed on the showroom wall.

And guess what?  IT WAS ON SALE!  Plus, I got the guy to throw in the mounting bracket, so really, there was no way Jim could refuse me. (He learned long ago there is a point of no return, God bless him.)  We paid for my chicken, and I skipped (literally) out of the store with the dignity of a 48-year-old woman who just got a new toy.  I saved my “I got a chicken weathervane” song until we were outside.  I include their website because I think someone needs that flying pig. http://www.weathervanesofmaine.com/  Now we just have to get the thing on top of my house.  Jim is the only Air Force Pilot I know who is askeered of heights, so I’m hoping some capable manly men with professional weathervane installing experience will come to my rescue.  (Gary, GT;  how ’bout some free-range, organic eggs?)