They are bittersweet days, the days when animals die a natural death at the end of their lives. Stanley the Spaceman died early this morning, beloved mate of Stella (dec.) and father of too many chickens and not enough eggs. Stanley the Spaceman? you ask. Well Stanley went into Stella and ....................... became a spaceman. Husbands come out with the greatest things. So back to Stanley, he would have been nine years old and had all the pluck and arrogance of small men. The youngest Sweeties were given Stanley and Stella as a Christmas present. As a fitting end we put him on an ants' nest. Years ago we would have had to buried Stanley with wailing children and a full Mass with an Irish wake. Life has become somewhat simpler, in some aspects. Anyone have a rooster that they need to find a home for? It will go to a good home and will die a natural death of old age.