i’ve missed this blog liked i’ve missed fresh air, but i’m kind of sad that i have nothing especially poignant to say.
dakota has killed another two chux (yes, chooks- i know..)- bringing the new head count to three. i picture in my head the Count from Sesame Street in his black cape with lightning bolts crashing behind him and his eyes flashing, saying, “three! yes, three! lovely! chickens! three! mwa hahahaha!!!!””
or elmo with his chalkboard, patiently explaining as he draws with his puppet arm (by the way, why is it so endearing that you can see the wire that moves the arms of the Sesame Street puppets? the should be something that would drive me crazy, but i really just find it so quaint…), “ok kids: we started with 7. can YOU draw a 7? 7. straight line on top, slanty line down. you try it. good. now take away 2. see elmo do it? take 2 away. now we have 5. can you say 5? elmo can say 5. let’s say it together, kids. fiiiiiiiivvvvvvvvvve. good. 5! now take away 2 more. do you know how many are left? 3! that’s right! oh, we are so good at math! wasn’t that fun?!?!”
anyway, it happened the day after we finally assigned names to the chux and put on ankle bracelets so we could tell them apart. since we got them for eggs and not for meat, there is no need to not get attached to them (aside from the obvious problem that our dog likes to shake them to death and we can’t seem to keep them alive for more than a few weeks at a time, but i digress)- so, there you are. we took the plunge. we gave the names. and i watched through the kitchen window as one of my girls put up one heck of a fight (did she know she didn’t stand a chance?) before she did and was carried around the backyard like a chew toy for several hours. very dignified.
luckily, we have found 3 of the 4 carcasses (carcarrci???) and disposed of them. i actually kind of hoped when i couldn’t find the first two bodies that they had been carried off by eagles or something. maybe they would be a meal for some majestic creatures, and at least i knew my chux would not just get dumped in a landfill like a pile of old 8 track tapes. i was trying to be very philisophical circle-of-life and all. but it turned out dakota had just hidden them to play with later, and even though i had looked in the bushes and had looked for disturbed mounds of dirt indicating recent burials (how tidy could a dog be, after all?)- i couldn’t find her secret lair of evil. at some point, 3 of the bodies turned up and *h disposed of them.
but i guess the corollary to that is that one of the bodies is still missing. hmmmm…
so, our fluffy jeffrey dahmer/charles manson/son of sam is loving having chickens. sophie is very nonchalant about the whole business. i’m sort of kind of not really but maybe thinking about getting more to add to the flock so we can still get the amount of eggs we were counting on come spring (hopefully). we’ll see.
healthwise, MJ is not the panacea i had hoped for. like big pharma stuff, i will have to experiment with dosages, variations, etc. and see if i can tweak it into working better. i wish i would wax poetic and say things like, ” my pain continues to whisper to me in the night. it comes like a gentle breeze that caresses my skin and billows the silk of the curtains with its touch…”
really it’s more like:
pain hurts. it’s like a 285 pound football player jumping on your back and riding around on you all day long without a break. you can’t find a position that doesn’t hurt, can barely get anything done, and everything takes 98x the amount of energy it should. it’s not just the physical sensations of pain that break you down; it’s the mental strain too. it’s the idea of falling short of every goal every day, even when you’ve already pared down your to-do list past the point of what’s acceptable or reasonable or functional. it’s having to take your medical situation into account for every decision you make. it’s watching your life happen without you in it, but you are too tired/too sore/too beaten down to even care that much. it’s being relieved when it’s not as bad as it could be, but never really getting to a place where you’re happy because it’s good. it’s watching the disappointment on the faces of your family and looking in the mirror to see someone you don’t recognize and wouldn’t want to know. it’s checking in with your body every once in a while to see if there’s a single place that doesn’t hurt and coming up with bizarre gratitude lists like, “yes- the middle knuckle on my left pinkie doesn’t hurt right now. my right shin doesn’t hurt too much. almost my entire right foot is ok. oh- and both of my earlobes are ok. score!” it’s passing the computer day after day and wanting so badly to write on my blog and knowing that all i have to talk about is how icky i feel, which is getting boring even for me.
but at least my dog didn’t shake me to death…
but enough about me- how are YOU?