My golly, its been a hecktick pace hereabouts of late.

The chickin wire and posts I ordered finely came in. Of coarse with the frost still in the ground, theres a few weeks yet till I can get things set up in the fence department.

Wud’nt you know, the very next day a batch of little yeller chicks arrived all bundled up by speshul C.O.D.

I been fixin’ up the shed out back to give ’em a place of there own, but I still have a ways to go on that.

So now I got 24 chicks in a galvonyzed warshtub next to my bed, with no broody hens to keep ’em warm. But thanks to Merna, who kindly give me the loan of an old hair blower, there doin’ fine.

Mind you, the warshtub is what I was usin’ to feed the birds, so I had to stop work on the shed and slap some bird houses together so’s the red poles and robins and such wud’nt go without.

With one thing and the nother, some days its hard to know where to start.

I’ll be some glad when it warms up suffishent to fork up a bit of a garden. I’m a tad bit tired of takin’ my meals standin’ up, on accounta the starter plants all over my kitchen table and all the counters.

There was a small green house out back, but it got brang down by all the snow this winter and I ain’t had time to put ‘er back up.

Whilst we’re on that line, it puts me in mind of what I planned to tell you a few weeks back about maybe bein’ kin to the new Pressident of the US & A.

But first I gotta tell you a bit about my kinfolks, the Doherty fambly.

My grate-grate-grate-grandaddy Timothy Doherty first came to P.E.I. in 18 & 47, when the big pottata fammin made thousands of Irish folks pull up roots and move to this side of the pond.

First thing they done in the new land was to plant spuds. Never made scents to me, but it worked out OK.

As you mite of heard, folks in P.E.I. still grow the odd pottata. Even some that ain’t that odd, like that one they call Youcon Gold.

Anyways, when I first heard tell of the new Pressident it got me thinkin’.

You see, my kinfolks was what they called Black Irish. And with him havin’ a name like O’Bamma, well it makes scents that theres a bit of Irish in there somewheres.

My naybor Wilferd says you can check up on these things by googlin’ at the interweb, and he offered to show me how next week.

It may be a long shot, but I’ve been known to take the odd shot from time to time.

In case you had’nt figgered it out, Darrol, that last part was a little joke.

I’ll let you know soon how things turn out.

Yer pal,