Yes, Rigmar is getting back her groove.
She is looking better, tail feathers growing back, She's gaining weight, she's off her perch in the coop and walking around the pen. She's out and about now and slowly integrating herself back into the group.
She's gaining weight because I've been hand feeding her the best scraps and shoo the other hens away when they challenge her right to have food.
And I've been taking her over to my fenced kitchen garden everyday so she can have hours of scratching, pecking, scavaging and eating the last of the brussel sprout leaves that are still bright green on their big stout stalks. All in peace!
But we had a scare yesterday. Just after I felt so good about getting her back into shape, I lost her.
Rob and I were supposed to go to our Supper Club event across the street. Before changing I had decided to take Rigmar back over to the barn with the other chickens. And there in the garden was a large grey cat. I let Otis out and he chased it fiercely, and it fled rapidly to the backyard and up a tree. I had one item to bring over to Litengard and when I returned, no Rigmar. ANYWHERE!
Rob came out and we searched and searched, for about 45 minutes, making us late for our engagement. All around the house, the bushes, the neighbors, under the house, in the garage back over at the coop. Calling her name, as if chickens respond to their names being called! No Rigmar. Sadly we decided that she must have been taken by a big hawk (too early for an owl). Loosing her after I had congratulated myself on nursing her back to health! A low blow and not much for my ego!
And then after I had changed and was over by the kitchen sink, down by the basement stairs.....there staggered out skinny little Rigmar. Looking dazed and confused but in one piece. I think she was glad to see me. She was willing to be caught and brought back to her safe environment. The cat in close proximity and the ferocious barking from Otis must have scared her away to a great hiding place.
And when all was quiet she came out.
But, no more kitchen garden for Rigmar.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Bullying at 44
I can't believe it, but it's happening in my own backyard.
Bullying!!!
Poor Rigmar. First she sat in the nesting box for two months, just trying to have a family. She simply wanted some babies to mother, her instincts were kicking in.
But they looked askance at her then, and just tried to pretend she wasn't one of them. One of their flock! One of their group......engaged in that ridiculous behavior!
She gave up the notion of having babies and has tried to integrate herself back into the flock but, oh no!!!!!!
She began to molt.....first it was the feathers around her neck that were suddenly shed. But then all the beautiful long buff tail feathers began to appear on the floor of the coop. And gradually a lot of feathers around her body were gone and she looked like a shadow of her former self. A miniature of the rest of the flock.
She looks pitiful. And no pictures please, she would be mortified!
And they dislike her even more. They won't let her eat, they attack her if she tries to eat when they all eat. They chase her around the yard and peck at her. She has found a refuge in the top of the wall of the nesting boxes and stands there all day to avoid their fury.
But I'm for the underdog.....or chicken. I've taken to hand feeding her. She runs up to me when I speak with her. And since it has stopped raining I've taken her to the back fenced in kitchen garden and let her free range. She's gobbling up the Brussel sprout leaves and the beet tops. She scratching and picking up bugs in the dirt and finding a host of worms. And she is enjoying the sun and no BULLYING! Left alone and enjoying it.
I hope that when her feathers all grow back and she looks like the rest of the flock again, they will accept her back into the group.
Who knew that looks were that important to more species than ours!
Bullying!!!
Poor Rigmar. First she sat in the nesting box for two months, just trying to have a family. She simply wanted some babies to mother, her instincts were kicking in.
But they looked askance at her then, and just tried to pretend she wasn't one of them. One of their flock! One of their group......engaged in that ridiculous behavior!
She gave up the notion of having babies and has tried to integrate herself back into the flock but, oh no!!!!!!
She began to molt.....first it was the feathers around her neck that were suddenly shed. But then all the beautiful long buff tail feathers began to appear on the floor of the coop. And gradually a lot of feathers around her body were gone and she looked like a shadow of her former self. A miniature of the rest of the flock.
She looks pitiful. And no pictures please, she would be mortified!
And they dislike her even more. They won't let her eat, they attack her if she tries to eat when they all eat. They chase her around the yard and peck at her. She has found a refuge in the top of the wall of the nesting boxes and stands there all day to avoid their fury.
But I'm for the underdog.....or chicken. I've taken to hand feeding her. She runs up to me when I speak with her. And since it has stopped raining I've taken her to the back fenced in kitchen garden and let her free range. She's gobbling up the Brussel sprout leaves and the beet tops. She scratching and picking up bugs in the dirt and finding a host of worms. And she is enjoying the sun and no BULLYING! Left alone and enjoying it.
I hope that when her feathers all grow back and she looks like the rest of the flock again, they will accept her back into the group.
Who knew that looks were that important to more species than ours!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
I Have a Friend.....
And her name is Fran.
I was here last week. In her part of the world. It was a beautiful part of the world last week. No humidity, temps in the high 70's, white soft sand, gentle waves caressing the shore, little sandpipers scurrying around on their spindlely legs, pelicans flying low over the surf and wonderful family and friends to share it with.
For some reason, Fran has chosen me.
That's what it feels like. She has hundred's of friends but somehow I feel like I'm a special friend. She was there when I was a self confident college student trying desperately to reject the gospel. She would invite my family over for dinners after church and they would talk about the Lord. When I received Christ, she took me under her wing and gave me a short course on the Old and New Testament. We sat for hours around her dining room table as she carefully explained the theme and purpose of each book of the Bible.
She wrote me notes. And continues to write me notes, and sends me packages. She visited me in Boston, in Pennsylvania and here in Upstate New York. She says I'm a blessing and inspiration to her but I think I'm just reflecting what she has poured into me.
When she turned 84, she wrote and told me how frustrated she was with herself. She thought she was getting lazy! This was after she just had a luncheon for 30, had a send off party for some people in their church who were moving away and then gave a talk at their CBS Bible Study group of over 200 ladies. Lazy? I don't think so.
This time my visit was to help my aunt celebrate her 89th birthday. She has received a difficult medical diagnosis and I wanted to be there for this birthday.
Fran and Dick came to dinner with Aunt June and Aunt Millie and Elizabeth. It was fun to be together. I brought eggplant and homemade sauce and we had some pasta. The next day when Liz and I picked her up to go to the thrift stores, she had made 4 bags of chocolate chips cookies, all packaged up with ribbon and smiley faces. One bag for each of us. And they were sitting on a platter which I shall next use at Litengard, cute white platter with small red flowers around the edge. She made me dinner one night, filet mignon! The day before I left she calld early in the morning. "How about a pedicure?" She wanted to treat me to a pedicure because my "little" (size 8 1/2) feet were working so hard at the Inn and for the family. So off we went to get pedicures.
Dick sent me this poem that Fran wrote. Their Bible Study group was asked to write a poem discribing their faith walk. She said her first thoughts were, "Am I rusting or am I trusting?
But here's what she came up with
Keeping On!
I wobble-I squabble
I act like a child
I react, I resist- that's putting it mild
I love my Lord. He's the love of my life
Oh, how I'd adore to be mature in his sight
I'm excited, ignited
Then inflated in turn
I know I'm his girl
Will I never learn?
But I love Him I do
So I'll just keep on
Heard Him whisper just now
"My child- Right on!"
I love her, I do!
I was here last week. In her part of the world. It was a beautiful part of the world last week. No humidity, temps in the high 70's, white soft sand, gentle waves caressing the shore, little sandpipers scurrying around on their spindlely legs, pelicans flying low over the surf and wonderful family and friends to share it with.
For some reason, Fran has chosen me.
That's what it feels like. She has hundred's of friends but somehow I feel like I'm a special friend. She was there when I was a self confident college student trying desperately to reject the gospel. She would invite my family over for dinners after church and they would talk about the Lord. When I received Christ, she took me under her wing and gave me a short course on the Old and New Testament. We sat for hours around her dining room table as she carefully explained the theme and purpose of each book of the Bible.
She wrote me notes. And continues to write me notes, and sends me packages. She visited me in Boston, in Pennsylvania and here in Upstate New York. She says I'm a blessing and inspiration to her but I think I'm just reflecting what she has poured into me.
When she turned 84, she wrote and told me how frustrated she was with herself. She thought she was getting lazy! This was after she just had a luncheon for 30, had a send off party for some people in their church who were moving away and then gave a talk at their CBS Bible Study group of over 200 ladies. Lazy? I don't think so.
This time my visit was to help my aunt celebrate her 89th birthday. She has received a difficult medical diagnosis and I wanted to be there for this birthday.
Fran and Dick came to dinner with Aunt June and Aunt Millie and Elizabeth. It was fun to be together. I brought eggplant and homemade sauce and we had some pasta. The next day when Liz and I picked her up to go to the thrift stores, she had made 4 bags of chocolate chips cookies, all packaged up with ribbon and smiley faces. One bag for each of us. And they were sitting on a platter which I shall next use at Litengard, cute white platter with small red flowers around the edge. She made me dinner one night, filet mignon! The day before I left she calld early in the morning. "How about a pedicure?" She wanted to treat me to a pedicure because my "little" (size 8 1/2) feet were working so hard at the Inn and for the family. So off we went to get pedicures.
Dick sent me this poem that Fran wrote. Their Bible Study group was asked to write a poem discribing their faith walk. She said her first thoughts were, "Am I rusting or am I trusting?
But here's what she came up with
Keeping On!
I wobble-I squabble
I act like a child
I react, I resist- that's putting it mild
I love my Lord. He's the love of my life
Oh, how I'd adore to be mature in his sight
I'm excited, ignited
Then inflated in turn
I know I'm his girl
Will I never learn?
But I love Him I do
So I'll just keep on
Heard Him whisper just now
"My child- Right on!"
I love her, I do!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering
There are certain days that are etched on our souls.
We can barely remember what happened yesterday but we can remember every moment of that day, and sometimes it is replayed in living color.
I can see myself, a high school student, passing through our outdoor halls, hearing about the assassination of JFK. We all just stood still for a moment, this could not be happening in our country and our life time. The shock and horror reverberated though the halls and classrooms of Horace Greeley High School. We were all so insulated from hardship, trials let alone a murder of our President.
Without any effort, I can see the day of November 8th unfold before my conscienceness. Every detail engraved on my being from the first phone call from Italy, to the Pastor arriving at our house, to the house spontaneously filling up with friends and neighbors, to the trip to the airport, to the airline attendant running out to buy a leather journal for me to write in, to Paris, to Italy, to running up the sidewalk to my wounded first born.
And September 11, 2001 is indelibly marked on my being.
None of my children were home. I had just finished my devotions, taken a shower and had turned the TV on while I got dressed. A couple of weeks before we had delivered Ethan, as a freshman, to Messiah College in Pennsylvania. Liz was working as a nurse in Boston, Jon was in Chicago and Christian was returning by bus from a trip south.
I remember saying, "Oh, God, this can't be happening. Please, please Father reveal yourself to these people and save them. Help them listen to your voice and acknowledge your son." I could not believe the newsman was still broadcasting in a relatively composed voice. I was crying for those people.
My next thought was my children. Where were my loved ones in relation to this act of horror. And what was coming next?
No one knew what the next target was. But shortly we found out that Boston was the next possible target and something was happening in Pennsylvania.
Surprisingly, I was able to get through to Ethan and instructed him to listen and follow any directions given by the college administration.
After many attempts to reach Elizabeth, I finally got through. She told me all medical personale in Boston were mandated to their hospitals and were not allowed to leave. They were expecting scores of burn victims to be flown into Boston for medical treatment. "And Mom, there are F 16's circling Boston" "Yes, honey but God is with you and you can do this. You are strong and capable, pray for direction and listen for the Holy Spirit's voice. And do all that you are asked to do." Sadly, there were no victims.
Chicago did not seem to be on anyone's radar, so I guess I felt that Jon was relatively safe. And Christian arrived home in the early afternoon. Relief.
Sometines we get bored with regular, ho hum days. Days when nothing spectaculor happens. We take for granted that our family will all be together on special days, will celebrate milestones and successes and provide comfort for disappointments and challenges. And yet each one is special. A gift.
I called Rob to the kitchen sink the other day. "Look, the male and female cardinal are at the feeder at the same time!" I never see that. Usually, the males goes in first and if it is safe, he flys away so his mate can come in and eat. I like to pretend that this couple is the same couple of cardinals that I see each year. They come back to me each spring and suprise me with their presence over our summer days. But I never see the together at the feeder. And yet, a wonderful present this fall. The two together before they disappear for the winter. Ordinary wonders. Special beauties provided each day by a loving and caring creator.
Even admidst tragedy, horror, sadness and grief......God is
We can barely remember what happened yesterday but we can remember every moment of that day, and sometimes it is replayed in living color.
I can see myself, a high school student, passing through our outdoor halls, hearing about the assassination of JFK. We all just stood still for a moment, this could not be happening in our country and our life time. The shock and horror reverberated though the halls and classrooms of Horace Greeley High School. We were all so insulated from hardship, trials let alone a murder of our President.
Without any effort, I can see the day of November 8th unfold before my conscienceness. Every detail engraved on my being from the first phone call from Italy, to the Pastor arriving at our house, to the house spontaneously filling up with friends and neighbors, to the trip to the airport, to the airline attendant running out to buy a leather journal for me to write in, to Paris, to Italy, to running up the sidewalk to my wounded first born.
And September 11, 2001 is indelibly marked on my being.
None of my children were home. I had just finished my devotions, taken a shower and had turned the TV on while I got dressed. A couple of weeks before we had delivered Ethan, as a freshman, to Messiah College in Pennsylvania. Liz was working as a nurse in Boston, Jon was in Chicago and Christian was returning by bus from a trip south.
I remember saying, "Oh, God, this can't be happening. Please, please Father reveal yourself to these people and save them. Help them listen to your voice and acknowledge your son." I could not believe the newsman was still broadcasting in a relatively composed voice. I was crying for those people.
My next thought was my children. Where were my loved ones in relation to this act of horror. And what was coming next?
No one knew what the next target was. But shortly we found out that Boston was the next possible target and something was happening in Pennsylvania.
Surprisingly, I was able to get through to Ethan and instructed him to listen and follow any directions given by the college administration.
After many attempts to reach Elizabeth, I finally got through. She told me all medical personale in Boston were mandated to their hospitals and were not allowed to leave. They were expecting scores of burn victims to be flown into Boston for medical treatment. "And Mom, there are F 16's circling Boston" "Yes, honey but God is with you and you can do this. You are strong and capable, pray for direction and listen for the Holy Spirit's voice. And do all that you are asked to do." Sadly, there were no victims.
Chicago did not seem to be on anyone's radar, so I guess I felt that Jon was relatively safe. And Christian arrived home in the early afternoon. Relief.
Sometines we get bored with regular, ho hum days. Days when nothing spectaculor happens. We take for granted that our family will all be together on special days, will celebrate milestones and successes and provide comfort for disappointments and challenges. And yet each one is special. A gift.
I called Rob to the kitchen sink the other day. "Look, the male and female cardinal are at the feeder at the same time!" I never see that. Usually, the males goes in first and if it is safe, he flys away so his mate can come in and eat. I like to pretend that this couple is the same couple of cardinals that I see each year. They come back to me each spring and suprise me with their presence over our summer days. But I never see the together at the feeder. And yet, a wonderful present this fall. The two together before they disappear for the winter. Ordinary wonders. Special beauties provided each day by a loving and caring creator.
Even admidst tragedy, horror, sadness and grief......God is
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Green Eggs and Ham
Actually, no.
No green eggs.
They are blue. I thought they would be teal......that's what the blurb said above the chicks at the farm store.
But since we are into soft grey/blues at Litengard that's what the eggs turned out to be.....grey/blue. They are just beautiful. One of the Ameracuna's is laying brown eggs (false advertising!!!), but the other is laying these beautiful light blue eggs. And they go so nicely, visually, with the brown eggs.
Jon wants to know how they taste. I tell him I'm still just looking at them. They are so pretty I don't want to crack them open and use them. But I guess I will have to get over their outside beauty and experience their Omega 3 nutrition shortly.
The gardens at Litengard and behind 42 are producing prolifically. I have about 12 heirloom tomato plants and everyday I make pasta sauce for the freezer. Danica put me onto this method last year. I roast up the tomatoes, garlic, onion, green peppers, all sorts of herbs and at different times anything else that I might have too much of such as zucchini, and eggplant. Put it through the food processor and it makes the most delicious pasta sauce.
I've been digging up loads of potatoes and I have a ton of winter squash, acorn, butternut, blue hubbard and then there were the volunteer pumpkins that just sprouted up in the most inconvenient places.
One of the guests at Litengard put me onto Lactofermentation as an alternative way of processing all the produce. It was the way ancient cultures processed veggies and the result is supposed to be very good for one's digestive system. I "did" up some green beans and cucumbers the other day. It's quick and easy, and I have heard it tastes great. They are fermenting right now on my counter. I'll let you know the results. Everything gets pickled. Nancy tried some shredded carrots last year and loved them. I've got lots of carrots and beets coming too.
These beans were sort of hidden behind the chicken wire so they grew to these ridiculous lengths (and are totally unusable). Thirteen inches! I wonder if that is a Guiness World record?
Growing things. It's a God thing. Babies, gardens, poultry, friendships, homes. It's put there by God and it's so much fun to work together with Him and see the results!
No green eggs.
They are blue. I thought they would be teal......that's what the blurb said above the chicks at the farm store.
But since we are into soft grey/blues at Litengard that's what the eggs turned out to be.....grey/blue. They are just beautiful. One of the Ameracuna's is laying brown eggs (false advertising!!!), but the other is laying these beautiful light blue eggs. And they go so nicely, visually, with the brown eggs.
Jon wants to know how they taste. I tell him I'm still just looking at them. They are so pretty I don't want to crack them open and use them. But I guess I will have to get over their outside beauty and experience their Omega 3 nutrition shortly.
The gardens at Litengard and behind 42 are producing prolifically. I have about 12 heirloom tomato plants and everyday I make pasta sauce for the freezer. Danica put me onto this method last year. I roast up the tomatoes, garlic, onion, green peppers, all sorts of herbs and at different times anything else that I might have too much of such as zucchini, and eggplant. Put it through the food processor and it makes the most delicious pasta sauce.
I've been digging up loads of potatoes and I have a ton of winter squash, acorn, butternut, blue hubbard and then there were the volunteer pumpkins that just sprouted up in the most inconvenient places.
One of the guests at Litengard put me onto Lactofermentation as an alternative way of processing all the produce. It was the way ancient cultures processed veggies and the result is supposed to be very good for one's digestive system. I "did" up some green beans and cucumbers the other day. It's quick and easy, and I have heard it tastes great. They are fermenting right now on my counter. I'll let you know the results. Everything gets pickled. Nancy tried some shredded carrots last year and loved them. I've got lots of carrots and beets coming too.
These beans were sort of hidden behind the chicken wire so they grew to these ridiculous lengths (and are totally unusable). Thirteen inches! I wonder if that is a Guiness World record?
Growing things. It's a God thing. Babies, gardens, poultry, friendships, homes. It's put there by God and it's so much fun to work together with Him and see the results!
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Rigmar Wants Children
For almost three weeks now, Rigmar has sat in the nesting box.
At first I was concerned that she might be ill. But a quick call to the in house vet and a frantic email to her previous owner assured me that she was not in any physical danger or distress.
I was instructed that what she is doing is "brooding". She wants children. It's only natural. We all, (or most of us) want to have some children of our own. And I guess chickens are no different.
But she's pathetic now. When one of her friends lays an egg, she immediately goes and sits on it. "Maybe someone's eggs are fertile!"
I try to shoo her off the nest and get her to go outside, which she does but only grudgingly. Then, in a big huff and lots of clucking and noise, she races back to the coop, jumps inside and back in the nesting boxes.
The rest of the hens think she is crazy and are ignoring her. When she does get down briefly she puffs herself up to twice her original size and struts around making loud noises. The others think she's ostentatious and try to peck her so she's not so puffed up. They don't have the mother instincts yet.
But, what to do, what to do. I think she is really suffering. We take all the eggs each day and she is desperate. Maybe Mr. T., who reads this blog, can recommend something or can tell me where I might get a couple of fertilized eggs. Perhaps if she could hatch a baby or two she could revert back to her tender, quiet self.
But, maybe not. Children are sometimes more than we expect. They're cute and adorable as infants. Sometimes they're messy and sometimes demanding. They need to be taught manners and rules of home life. But they're certainly fun...and loving...and inquisitive...and imaginative....and complicated....and....
absolutely lovely.
I think that is so in the chicken world too. There is a certain order to their living out there in the barn. A pecking order, so to speak. So if Rigmar ever gets to hatch a chick or two, we'll see how she handles motherhood.
At first I was concerned that she might be ill. But a quick call to the in house vet and a frantic email to her previous owner assured me that she was not in any physical danger or distress.
I was instructed that what she is doing is "brooding". She wants children. It's only natural. We all, (or most of us) want to have some children of our own. And I guess chickens are no different.
But she's pathetic now. When one of her friends lays an egg, she immediately goes and sits on it. "Maybe someone's eggs are fertile!"
I try to shoo her off the nest and get her to go outside, which she does but only grudgingly. Then, in a big huff and lots of clucking and noise, she races back to the coop, jumps inside and back in the nesting boxes.
The rest of the hens think she is crazy and are ignoring her. When she does get down briefly she puffs herself up to twice her original size and struts around making loud noises. The others think she's ostentatious and try to peck her so she's not so puffed up. They don't have the mother instincts yet.
But, what to do, what to do. I think she is really suffering. We take all the eggs each day and she is desperate. Maybe Mr. T., who reads this blog, can recommend something or can tell me where I might get a couple of fertilized eggs. Perhaps if she could hatch a baby or two she could revert back to her tender, quiet self.
But, maybe not. Children are sometimes more than we expect. They're cute and adorable as infants. Sometimes they're messy and sometimes demanding. They need to be taught manners and rules of home life. But they're certainly fun...and loving...and inquisitive...and imaginative....and complicated....and....
absolutely lovely.
I think that is so in the chicken world too. There is a certain order to their living out there in the barn. A pecking order, so to speak. So if Rigmar ever gets to hatch a chick or two, we'll see how she handles motherhood.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
And In A Flash........
Litengard was once again a Bed and Breakfast. After two wonderful nights of lovely music.
We hosted an "Evening of Favorites" this past Thursday and Friday. The Inn's parlor was transformed into a theater of sorts, with rows of white chairs, stage lights, a platform stage, the sound system, the audience and four fantastically talented musicians. These four musicians could perform anywhere in the US, but Canton was the venue for this performance.
We all were treated to so many fun favorites! Show tunes favorites, movie favorites, pop favorites and great Patsy Cline favorites. The audience, I don't think, wanted the show to come to an end. It was so much fun!
And during the intermission, gourmet desserts were served with coffee and a variety of iced teas, the favorite being pomegranate wild berry tea.
We had about 30 white chairs in the parlor and seating for several more on the couch, and of course there was standing room for those that had other responsibilities that night.
The guests were encouraged to go out onto the front porch to enjoy their desserts. A favorite past time, sitting on one's front porch, watching the neighborhood go by.
Or others could go to the back patio, to enjoy the backyard with the gardens full of tomato plants laden with tons of fruit and the lovely ladies (hens) who were very inquisitive about who all these people were. And many people wanted a tour of the barn with it's livestock. It's not often anymore one encounters chickens in the village
Darlene and Carina singing a duet. Their voices compliment each other so well. We all could have listened for many more hours!
And Ana Hull made the most amazing desserts! Each night there was a completely new menu of desserts all served by lovely ladies and fun aprons which were well coordinated with Litengard's colors.
We hosted an "Evening of Favorites" this past Thursday and Friday. The Inn's parlor was transformed into a theater of sorts, with rows of white chairs, stage lights, a platform stage, the sound system, the audience and four fantastically talented musicians. These four musicians could perform anywhere in the US, but Canton was the venue for this performance.
We all were treated to so many fun favorites! Show tunes favorites, movie favorites, pop favorites and great Patsy Cline favorites. The audience, I don't think, wanted the show to come to an end. It was so much fun!
And during the intermission, gourmet desserts were served with coffee and a variety of iced teas, the favorite being pomegranate wild berry tea.
We had about 30 white chairs in the parlor and seating for several more on the couch, and of course there was standing room for those that had other responsibilities that night.
The guests were encouraged to go out onto the front porch to enjoy their desserts. A favorite past time, sitting on one's front porch, watching the neighborhood go by.
Or others could go to the back patio, to enjoy the backyard with the gardens full of tomato plants laden with tons of fruit and the lovely ladies (hens) who were very inquisitive about who all these people were. And many people wanted a tour of the barn with it's livestock. It's not often anymore one encounters chickens in the village
Darlene and Carina singing a duet. Their voices compliment each other so well. We all could have listened for many more hours!
And Ana Hull made the most amazing desserts! Each night there was a completely new menu of desserts all served by lovely ladies and fun aprons which were well coordinated with Litengard's colors.
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