Stuff I've posted to Facebook lately (for my non-Facebook friends)

Where shall I start?  I guess with THIS OBITUARY from a lady who penned for herself.  It made my day.  Then I went to her guestbook online to leave a message and found out other strangers had also appreciated her words.  

Check out this HOUSE FOR SALE about twenty miles from me.  There's a link that allows you to go to the realtor's website and see the price, which is far too rich for my bank account, but seems reasonable, or even low, after you look at the pictures.  I'm trying to visualize what it would look like if I bought it:  dust on everything, garage sale furniture arranged sparsely around the place, weeds along the garden path.  Yeah, it's just as well I can't afford it, but then if I could, I suppose I could hire a maid and gardener.

How about 64 FAMOUS PEOPLE AND THEIR LAST WORDS.  Some of these are priceless.

Here are a couple of things I have NOT shared on Facebook, mainly because in my excitement about our upcoming vacation I have over-posted lately and refuse to post a single thing more until tomorrow.

I'm pretty sure one of the two baby pullets I bought for Cora's pleasure is a rooster.

Red, the one on the right, has a very large comb.  For you city folks, that's the red thing on top of a chicken's head.  I'd be willing to bet she is a he; not to mention the fact that he's larger.  It's a good thing his name is gender-neutral.  On the bright side, I'm without a rooster at the present time, so as long as he turns out not to be a people-attacker, he can stick around.  I miss hearing a rooster crow.  At least when a chicken's sexual identity changes, he doesn't have to worry about all this complicated stuff like, you know, which rest room to use.  

This is my black Iris.  It just happened to be in a spot where it had a garden hose dragged over, around, and through it for most of the winter, and I'm surprised it's even alive, let alone blooming.  I don't think it shows up in this picture, but there's one more bloom trying to open, too.  We won't be using the hose to water any cows nearby next winter, so perhaps by another spring the plant will heal from the abuse it received.