I survived the plague. One of the chickens was not so lucky with the hawk. I had four hens, one cute little copper-colored girl I call Penny Hen. Pen is, I think, the one egg that was still hatching when I found the nest and so hatched in my hands. I say this because once I put them all out from the garage into the big world, she was never afraid of me, and even now if they are loose and I call them, she comes running at full tilt. She will eat out of my hands. Fortunately, I did not lose Penny to the hawk, but I did lose one of the little black hens. I have tried and tried to name them, but they look so alike that I couldn't. They were The Pointer Sisters, now I have to think of a famous female duo. OK, that works. They're now the Indigo Girls.
Trying to locate my traumatized hens after I found one of them missing, I stumbled on a big cache of eggs. You have to love chickens...you go to the expense and labor-intensive effort of building them a coop and providing them with a place to actually lay their eggs. Oh, they've put a few in the condo, but not too many. Instead? They like the compost heap. Apparently. I did check all the eggs (you can drop them in a bowl of water...if they sink to the bottom right away they are still fresh enough to eat) and they were good. So Little Man and I had eggs for dinner the other night. Child A? She wanted chicken nuggets. So, I guess, did the hawk...
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Fall is here, the weather is cold and the days are getting darker. The Seasonal Affective Disorder should be kicking in any day now, as it is it is getting harder and harder to haul my sorry ass out of bed in the mornings. Things are not easy right now, by any means. I knew when we made this decision to separate that it would mean while some things would be better, other things would be harder. I accepted it then and I accept it now. If nothing, I'm a pragmatist. This year, I'm learning new things about myself, finding new ways to connect with the things that give me joy. I'm re-learning those old lessons about gratitude, faith, joy and sorrow. One of my friends-in-the-box* gave up this quote from Khalil Gibran that was particularly meaningful to me today:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked, and the selfsame well from which your laughter arises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
And despite all that is difficult, all that is scary about tomorrow, I know that right now I am where I need to be.
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My latest fun findings on the web, for your edification, amusement and general time-wasting:
OMG! Zombie! My question is, how did the kid get zombified inthe first place?
Star Trek meets Monty Python - "Camelot" Star Trek is always funny.
Helpful advice from Kari Ann Who knew you needed eye protection for that?
Skippy's List Not really new, but always a good read.
