Painful learning lessons on the homestead.

Left to Right: Mango, Spots and honky

It seems like just yesterday I picked up my chicks and was excited to start a new chapter "Hawk Free". Looking at this picture now I suppose I should have known that I had two sick birds on my hands. It has been a very stressful month dealing with sick chickens.

The only chicken left in the picture that I still have is, Honky, the white chick, and she is enormous and healthy.  She is a pullet not a bantam, meaning that she is a large girl. She still sounds like a baby but is already bigger then my adult bantam hens, I keep looking for spots thinking that my tiny favorite girl will peak out around the corner to run into my arms like old times... but alas... it's Honky.

When picking chicks you are supposed to look at their eyes, skin, lift up their wings and look at their feathers. I was too busy looking for friendly, and docile birds, which I suppose means... sick bird.

Mango's legs are very pale in the picture and she never grew. Spots, was so little and frail, she must have gotten pecked in the eye, and was stunted from the large doses of antibiotics needed to save the adults.

Honky is the picture of perfect health. They say to look for yellow legs ( although a silkie should have an extra toe and black skin). So not in all cases are we looking for yellow.

I was playing with spots one day when I noticed that she had one eye closed and was starting to weave her head a little. I opened her eye to find a large white dot on it, and it was all foggy. She was blind in that eye, and she was disoriented. I sat with Mango and Spots in the yard while Ron sat in the middle life guarding the chicks. I got up to get a drink of water and Spots came running after me... "Where ya going?" She said in her little voice... I picked her up in my hand and she promptly plopped herself into my palm and went right off to sleep. She was always looking for a place to sleep... another sign of sickness maybe? I put her back in the coop and said goodnight to her, she went in and immediately heard a squawking... little spots came sliding down the ramp and was chased out by Regina... the head of the flock. That's not good either.... If birds are kicking the weakest link out, that is also a good sign of sickness. They won't even let her sit on the perch at this point. I picked her up gave her a kiss on the head "well I still love you no matter what little one" and placed her on her perch. That was the last I saw of her. I had left the gate open by accident and in the morning all the chickens were roaming, and Spots was gone....

Last night I came home after teaching riding lessons and without even saying hello to my family I made a bee line to my special girl Mango to see how she was doing. "Cheep Cheep! Mango" Not a sound. Shit.... I touched her, and she normally wakes up and gives a soft cheep cheep back as if to say, "Damnit mom!! I was sleeping what do you want now?!!!"
Nothing....She was cold.... and it was 85 degrees out. I picked her up, my hands shaking...She gave out one last cheep and her cold claw wrapped very slowly and limply around my finger.... She was still alive, but barely.

I was startled by the hubster who quietly walked up behind me and placed a warm gentle hand on my shoulder. "It's time I think... scooter" I nodded my head and said a few words in my head and kissed her head and told her I would see her again one day on my Noah's ark of other pets waiting for me. I showed him where I wanted her to sleep... and he took her out of my shaking hands, and told me to go inside.

I came out this morning to pay my respects,  and there was a tiny American flag placed at her headstone. Appropriate seeing as she put up a bloody good fight for me.

As always, I am a little devastated by my weeks journey of death, but it's a learning lesson. I now know to quarantine new birds. Wait till the weather is really warm to clean the coop out. Use a larger grade of shavings. Get medicine into the sick birds faster, don't just wait around for three weeks waiting for them to die. Kill them if they are in pain and there is no light at the end of the tunnel, don't just keep them around because you want them around. AND.... I suppose, don't love them... it hurts too much when they die on you. The last part is impossible....by the way. No matter what.... chickens will pull on your heart strings.

In sickness and health

Mango holding on to her life support. 

I'm in a morally tight spot today. I took Mango my chicken off of life support. Meaning, that I have stopped the antibiotics, I stopped feeding her my power green juice and water, and have left her to her own ways.

This morning she did not speak to me when I said "GOOD MORNING MANGO!!"

Ron (my sheep dog cat) sat outside all night howling.... the same howl he comes to me with when watts is up from his nap and screaming to get out.

Ron has not left Mango's side... he sleeps right next to her and only comes in to eat. I don't quite understand the relationship except I think Ron may think that this is another baby that is clearly sick.

Anyway, I couldn't take it any longer. I can't let her die.... I should really just snap her neck and get this over with, but Ron and I can save her.... I just have to feed her, and she will be up and at them again. Who cares if it is a huge pain in the ass, and that it takes a lot of work. She gets better and it's because of my force feedings.

I picked her up and inspected her... bone thin, she hasn't been eating enough.... She is starving.

After lots of research I have determined that she has something called crookneck. It normally happens with the breed "Silkie" which is the breed of my "Fluffy girl"

Mango is not a silkie. Silkies get this disorder because they have a soft spot on their skull.  All it takes is one sharp peck to the skull from another bird and bam, the neck goes in between the feet, and they start walking backwards. It's neurological.

This could be what Mango has, but I'm not a vet, and for some reason it seems that chickens are hard to diagnose because they are tough little bastards that refuse to act or show sickness.

I'm going to become a chicken clucker (like a horse whisperer only with lucks instead of whispers) and  I know I can save this bird with lots of diligent care. Who cares if she spends the rest of her life walking backwards with her neck all screwy. I have better conversations with her than I do most humans. AND... Ron told me to "DO SOMETHING!, Quick"

It's morally wrong. This bird may be suffering, and I am letting it go on much longer then it should. I am also defying nature. Yet, look at those parents that lost two kids that were really sick... they just prayed for them to get better and did not take them to the hospital and the kids died, and now... the parents are on trial for watching their kids die without giving them medical attention.

I could go to jail..... I HAVE TO SAVE THE DAY!


Anyway, to make a long story short.

I injected Mango, my speechless girl with my green juice and some water. The food is in her gullet being digested. After a half hour I put her on her back and held her claw... her foot wrapped around my finger tighter and tighter as the food passed into her body. And then.... a squeak.

and a purr.....

My girl was coming back to life in front of me. I massaged the bottom of her foot and noticed it turned from white/blue to yellow. The color of health.

She was still in there somewhere.

"Mango my sweet girl.... are you still in there? Mommy is here"
a very week "cheep cheep.... purrrrrr"

What a compliment.
A real purr.... that is only given amongst baby flocks as they snuggle in together under the heat lamp at night.

This sucks.... to be honest. I just wanted some chickens to lay some eggs. I hated birds before this... they are so complicated, and hard to take care of. They have crazy bodies, and personalities.

My whole life I had animals that would just drop dead the minute I brought them home from the pet shop.... Dozens of fish, hamsters, Guinea pigs, rats, cats, dogs, rabbits, chinchillas... are buried in my backyard....

AND now... my curse is that I get very sick animals that just wont die.
All for a stupid purr and some conversation, and the look of gratitude and devotion.
And Ron giving me the look of desperation to save his new friend. I can't take it! I'm special, this bird is special, and Ron is special, we are a bunch of special need idiots bonded to the hip!

It's wrong.
I know it..... Maybe someone should just snap my neck out of this ridiculousness.

The Toddler

Oh this brought you joy? This made you happy? Let me destroy that for you. The joys of motherhood. 

I seem to spend most of my time writing on this blog about how my life is chaotic and out of control. At 6am I heard a noise coming from the babies room. "Hi mommy, I'm awake now, I'm ready to go to Grannies house"

"Go to bed! It's too early!"
"No I want to go to GRANNNY NOW!"

The hubster jumped out of bed and placed our defiant toddler back in his room where a gate was supposed to be holding him in his fort. Ten minutes go by, you I can hear an ugh... umph... umph... the sound of little feet pitter pattering down the hallway...

Fuck it... I don't care what he does, I'm too tired.

6:30 am:

"MOMMY!, HI JAMES! WAKE UP JAMES!"
"Get away from your brother! Leave him alone, he's sleep....."
"Goo-goo... da-dad-dad-dadmammaaaaa"

Shoot me in the face!!!

I drag both boys down stairs, way earlier then I would like- I feel like hell.

I step over the gate into the kitchen, and rub my eyes... why is my fish tank water... brown? What... is going on here? I take a closer look and almost drop the runt and the toddler. I quickly put them down and tell them to go watch TV...

On closer inspection I see that someone retarded has dumped ALL... I mean every last piece of fish food into my beloved pristine fish tank, that brings me endless joy and comfort as I wash the dishes a million times a day.

That toddler had scampered down stairs and dumped the food into the tank. The hubster woke up, put the gate back up and put the toddler back in his room... I'm sure he noticed my fish tank.

I frantically start to try and get the food out.... I look at my watch. Of course. 6:45 am... no better time to do this... I love smelling like fish, and dealing with this first thing...

It took me a half hour to get it somewhat composed. The water is still green brown, and my fish are still trying to survive in the muck.... Fatty is thrilled. He was on a diet, and now he has an endless supply of food.

As I was cleaning the plants, a pebble fell down the drain.
That wont hurt it I dont' think. wrong.... The garbage disposal worked, made a terrible noise like there was a pebble in there, and then stopped. I plunge my hands in there...looking for the rogue pebble...       ( I rather pull a turd from the toilet then put my hand in the sink... its a phobia....)

I pushed the red button on the bottom of the disposal system like it was an emergency exit botton... please work red button!! WORK! . Nothing.... I spent the next thirty minutes plunging my hands down the drain and grabbing things that I don't care to discuss....
Misery doesn't even describe my face or feelings.

Its broken....mother... bleep bleep bleep bleppity bleep bleep.

To make a long story short. As the day went on, I found the bathroom door locked, so my toddler wet his pants, and my favorite baby bird Spots has disappeared because she was my favorite, and I just announced to the world that I was ready to love again... so I had to pay a price.

But on a good note, the garbage disposal started to work again, and I havent had a panic attack, and the sun is out so I can think about riding even though I won't get to ride any time soon. This is just a fraction of the drama- I'm too drained, angry, sad, irritable, hungry, and volatile to write anything else.

At least the toddler said "sorry mommy". In the nicest voice ever....and then asked to go to grannies house, and I almost killed him.

Memorial Day Weekend

The longest weekend ever.

A picture from "National Lampoons Vacation" with the Griswald family. This is my life now.

The hubster took Friday off from work. We drove to his dads house (grandpa)... a mere three hours away. Grandpa and John were busy making the house look perfect for a party that they were going to throw, so we took a field trip to Gettysburg.

I grew up near Valley Forge, and have driven through the park many times. There are small log cabins and canons and fields overlooking more fields. There is a small road with trees perfectly lining both sides. Don't forget the monuments of soldiers and horses, and large places to sit on steps.... to contemplate and envision what happened here a really long time ago... or you can hang out with the 40 year old man wannabe soldier wearing a very clean tailored civil war outfit and a leather man purse and fake musket and some fancy boots telling you about his time in the war... it's weird. Or I mean, its so educational.

So Gettysburg is the same thing... without cabins, and it is three times larger. So much land! It was beautiful. We went on the auto tour. "Look more fields! Oh look more canons". There were lots of plaques saying, "West Virginia,  New Jersey, Connecticut, Pennsylvania battalion fought here"

Poor hubster would have to field my questions.... I would ask stupid questions like, "So how did they get here?, West Virginia is like really far" The hubster would mumble... "They walked! That's what you do in the army... walk" "Oh....that's really far" "Yup, it sucked to be them"

"Didn't, like.... a ton of people die here?" "Yeah, a ton" "So don't you think they would think it was stupid that a bunch of people are driving their BMW's on tour, taking snap shots of the worst day of their lives?" "Yup... you would think so..." his eyes start to cloud over my my ignorance.....  "And wouldn't... oh never mind...."

 I just looked out the window as the hubster drove us around the park with the kids quietly snoring in the backseat and van morrison quietly playing on the radio. What a waste of space. There could be horses all over this field.... Oh, and look!  there my friends..., is a sign to ride your horse down that trail... and there is another canon.... and who mows all of this?! And was it this open? I'm picturing "capture the flag" (a childhood field game) with grown starving men running around in the bushes killing each other over some land.

I came home feeling confused and a little dumb. It dawned on me that we didn't really learn anything about the civil war. My school focused hard on the industrial revolution, slaves, Nazis and the pilgrims.

I took a class in college about the civil war, I stumbled through it because I cared more about just getting a passing grade on the test so I could go out drinking on Thursday night.... I was dating a really smart med student at the time, and I'm ashamed to say that I had him write my papers for me. What a waste of an education. I didn't care about colonel mustard and agent orange. I wanted a screw driver and a free ride to the club.

John was born and raised in the area, apparently he was drilled on the civil war as a child, they knew all the commanders and the name of each battle. They had to know this,  so that when people came to visit they weren't going around dumb, like me saying "oh look another canon!"

Anyway, so that was Gettysburg... very pretty....unmarked cemetery.

And then we went to go see some family an hour away. The minute we walk through the door we were questioned on Chickens, and Horses. I was in heaven. Turns out the hubsters cousin is into chickens and living off the land, and grid too! The hubster and his wife stood staring at us as we excitedly chit chatted on stuff that they were forced to love... He knew all the breeds, and had built his coop himself....thrilling chit chat! Needless to say. We had lots to talk about. Or rather I did.... I talked so much that I was feeling shaky by the end... my brain had trouble forming real sentences and speaking to adults... (the aftermath of teaching toddlers and infants the art of speech I suppose).

Then we drove back to grandpas house to socialize some more at his memorial day party. We had trouble getting the boys to bed. They finally fell to sleep around 9 pm which is terribly late for them. James promptly woke up at 1 am, and decided that he only wanted to sleep in our bed. He drifted off to sleep at 3 am (on the floor). Watts then woke up at 5 am completely soaked through and was shaking from his wet and cold PJ's. He stayed in bed with us for an hour playing on my phone. James then woke up... and I wanted to kill myself.

The hubster jumped up at 5:45am and said, "OK time to go home" and with that we packed our stuff, jumped in the car, and drove three hours straight through the morning to get to our house at 9:45 am, for the memorial day parade that was going down our street at 10am.

We couldn't get to our house, so we had to park the car down the road and hoof it. With the boys in PJ's, and Mango my sick baby chicken in a bucket. Oh.... we brought my sick bird on vacation with us...because that is perfectly normal, and that's my life now.

The neighbors looked at us like we were zombies walking out of a war scene. And with that, I plopped us on the front yard and watched the parade of old cars, and veterans walk down our street while the hubster made me some coffee and changed diapers. Stick a fork in me, I am done!

The parade ended... we ate lunch and crawled into our beds.

I feel like I ran a marathon.
I can't wait to get horses so I have an excuse to stay home.... vacations are not what they used to be. It reminded me of a scene out of National Lampoons Vacation.... on our way to "Wally World"

Just talking about Chickens..... 

That right there is a.... canon. Right outside my window! 

On the Auto Tour following some nerds in a rental tour car. going too slow and clearly in our way to see more canons. 

Fear

Little Ravers, the prettiest pony in all the land. 


We all have something that we fear. I'm not sure if fear is the same as being "afraid" though. Some things I'm just too afraid to do... like sky diving, hang gliding, para sailing, or bungee jumping. I will never do this in my lifetime.

Fear however.... I can get over. I can hold a snake for one minute, even though I loath them and think they are Satan in a legless body.

I can go on a roller coaster even though I feel as though I'm pushing myself to have a heart attack and have taken about 5 years off of my life. But who wants to live to 80? I don't.

I'm about to conquer another fear....
Horse Shows.

Yup... I get really really nervous, my chest gets tight, I have trouble breathing, my brain turns off, I'm just a pair of eyeballs trapped in a body sitting on a horse... my eyes frantically look around listening to my heartbeat thump fast and hard in my throat. My ears sometimes will start to ring so I can't hear what the judges want from us.....Just thinking about it has caused my stomach to fill with acid.

I don't know why this happens... I rode on the equestrian team in college and always came out with a ribbon. My coach Dee Jones always put me as point rider, meaning that she put all her faith in me to place so that my points won, would go towards the team package points. This never helped my nervousness.

It might have begun when I started to show as a child. Around 11 or 12 there I was galloping around a show ring jumping things backwards or in the wrong direction. I was hopeless. A real dummy.

I'm extremely competitive. I have always done sports where it comes solely down to me to win. I played basketball once. I couldn't believe how easy it was. The game was over, we lost, and I didn't care, because it wasn't my fault.

I ran track, if I lost a race, it was my fault. I did diving, if I didn't score well, it was because of me.. my toes weren't pointed or, that belly flop did not look so hot. And then Riding.... where my brain was always left at the barn.

This time though I will be riding Raven. My little 5 year old welsh pony project that has only just learned to canter around the ring. If we don't do well it's because my pony can barely trot a circle. This is just practice for her.... and well... I suppose for me too. It takes a lot of the pressure off. She's a baby, she doesn't know how to bend or extend yet. This is just for fun.

Last night Christina came and asked me to show with her. Christina also did the Intercollegiate Shows, and well.... she actually looks like something on a horse. She is a very pretty rider, with a nice seat, a pretty smile, and she even smells good. This girl was made for the show series. She is also my student...

Then there is me.... I feel like a waif of a poop log on a wild animal. I ride like an old man galloping around with some hounds. So before I said yes to making a fool of myself I asked Ginger to pretend that she was a judge at a horse show. "How bout I just be Ginger" Oh that's right.... we aren't five?

Around we went, Christina and I... She was on her perfect green Thoroughbred Bacio, and I was on my tiny baby green wild pony Raven. "Trot, please Trot" Raven picks up her trot and we are swerving around the ring. I can't for the life of me get her to stick to the rail, her head is bent to the outside and her body is gliding sideways towards some jumps, we are about to knock them over. "Halt, everyone halt!" We can do this one. Raven comes to a skidding halt like a roping horse. "Take three steps back" Yup can do this too!, Raven glides effortlessly back.... I can see Christina having trouble.... My confidence builds.

"Canter, please canter" from a halt? You have to be nuts, Ok, Ravers... we got this.... I ask her to do something we havent' gotten to practice yet, and sure enough she goes right into the canter like a pro. She knows! She knows that we are going to win this one. She canters around fully tilting to the inside ears perked up, little legs racing around.... I am working with 50% steering the other half if gone into the wind. "walk, please walk" She transitions down smoothly.

"Reverse" "Canter"
I ask her to canter once more. She picks up the canter... the wrong lead. Shoot.... I normally wouldn't worry too much about this since she is just learning to balance herself. I ask her to come back to the trot and push my weight to the outside and snap her onto her inside leg. Presto, she has the right lead and she did it so quickly I don' think they noticed.... Christina is fighting Bacio for her correct right lead. He is 50/50 on that side. He either gives it or  doesn't.

Raven and I swoosh past the pretty duo and wobble around the ring. This is fun! This is really fun, and both Raven and I have our competition hats on. "And Walk"

Game over....

Ginger is impressed with us! We get the winning vote!
Off to the show we go.
This time I was not nervous... I immediately became clear headed and super aware of what Raven was doing. I felt like I had taken a magic pill that made my brain super fast and my body meld into one with Raven. I think Raven liked it too.

I was so proud of little Ravers. She showed everyone how special she was. Not more then a month ago she was bucking, rearing, avoiding and stubbornly standing still refusing to go forward. Now she flicks her little flashy hooves out and tucks her tiny nose in and her little eyes sparkle like they are made of diamonds. I love this pony- she is stubborn as a mule, pretty as a prom queen, and as friendly as a golden retriever.

Now to get Raven on the trailer....

This could be as hard as asking her to levitate for me.

I can levitate! 

Natural Devastation and some simple pleasures

Here are places not to live. Notice that New Jersey and Pennsylvania are in the clear? That's because I don't want to die today! 

Oklahoma was hit hard by a tornado. It touched down for 40 minutes and mowed down 20 miles of homes, two schools, and a few hospitals.

The biggest tornado in the world hit around the same place in 1999.

As always it is horrible.... but.... if you know that this place is hit hard by reoccurring tornado's... wouldn't you invest in a better shelter? or better yet... move someplace that doesn't suck?

California.... known to have earthquakes because it is sitting on a fault line is a good example of a place to kiss your stuff goodbye. When you live near the water, it is going to flood at some point. If you live below sea level, same thing. You don't have to be smart to know what the weather is going to be like.  Why would you risk your children's lives living there, or risk losing your entire life's belongings?

It's really dumb. Your setting yourself up for major stress, and heartache.

Anyway, I'm truly bummed out by the news as usual. Watching my species work hard to clean up a mess that could have been avoided.... (just don't live there!)

So here is something positive.

Ron is currently outside guarding little Mango. He refuses to leave his post and when the adult hens come over to peck at her he chases them away. He is a compassionate cat. That's an oxymoron. Felines are horrible killing machines. Not Ron though... he is like a sheep dog.

Some more good news?

Giselle my project Thoroughbred horse had her first adjustment from a chiropractor and got some acupuncture. The vet noticed that she had a tattoo from her racing days. I looked up the tattoo and found out that Giselle's name was Miss Bobbie Socks. She was born in Oklahoma on St Patty's Day. She won two races, and had 16 starts. We even found a You Tube video of a lady riding her in their backyard.

I rode her last night for the first time since the adjustment. She stood on the cross ties, she was much more calm. But... she still hates me on her back, and bucks at the canter. So, she basically just hates people on her back. I think she was hurt by humans... and does not want us monkeying around on her.

So it was a happy moment to see her finally relax on the cross ties... but very disappointing to see that she still sucks to ride.
However! Raven also sucked the big one, and one day she just turned a corner and is now a saint. I can only hope for Giselle's sake that once she builds more muscle and trust we can dance.

AND one more thing to celebrate while my TV exhausts terrible news our way....
Watts is almost completely potty trained! He poops and pees on the potty!

The news sucks. I'm thinking of getting rid of the Internet and TV. I don't know how I would write to this blog though....

And with that I have to go because Wattsies little world has come to a skidding halt because he can not... I say CAN NOT get his socks on by himself.

I wish I could throw a tantrum over socks... oh to be two.

Ron watches over Mango because he's a sheep dog.

Mango...

Things are looking up??

My baby chicken mango is still alive... she's not really improving... but she's alive.

I'm learning a lot about chicken conversations. I have long conversations with Mango, especially at night right before she goes to sleep... I make a sound, and with her little head upside down and tucked under her she manages to peep back.... three peeps is a good sound. A loud one peep seems to be a "I'm thirsty!, or "I'm standing on my head!" or... "I'm stuck in the corner again!" The best sound is a purr sound they make.... it almost sounds like a cricket... this is a sound they make to each other.... as if they are gossiping about a neighbor. I try desperately to get Mango to make that sound for me... but she won't... because she knows... I am not a chicken or an equal.

My family came over this weekend. All of them pretty much were like, "Is that a bird?" She is so screwed up that she doesnt even look like anything. just a round lump of feathers. "Yup she's in there somewhere....."

I'm just waiting for her to die at this point. I have stopped force feeding her.... I just make sure she has food, fresh water and is comfortable. I have stopped the medicine. She is eating and drinking when she gets up enough energy to do so.

I have been documenting her by video. If this bird lives, I will be writing a long article about her and submitting it to backyard chickens. I may even make a cape for her to wear, along with a gold crown. I'm not kidding. It will be a miracle if this bird pulls out of this tail spin.

 I just went out to check on my other birds. They are Ok... some of them are improving. One even laid an egg! The first one in a week. I have stopped the antibiotics on them too. I feel like a weeks worth of high dosage is good enough.

As I went to feed my chicks, Spots came running up to me. She is my speckled Sussex.... She is so soft and sweet. She's my youngest and smallest, yet has the best personality. She just wants to be held. I picked her up and she immediately plopped her little body down in the palm of my hand as if it was a warm nest. She closed her eyes and chirped enthusiastically for me to stroke her feathers. Now, after so much time spent with Mango, I know that the sounds coming out of this bird are pure contentment.

I suppose I am becoming a chicken whisperer. I know how to hold them, talk to them, and even how to look at them.

Now, if only I had this magic talent with humans.

Chocolate vs. Stickers

BREAK THROUGH!!!


Yesterday... my naked two year old was playing with his toys, and announced that he needed to go to the potty. He ran to the bathroom....

and yelled out. "I need wipes!"

I went about looking for the turd on the floor.... but no... not this time...
It was actually in the potty.

not only was it in the potty, but my two year old even took the pot out of his potty and dumped it into the real toilet and flushed it.

I was so excited that I gave him a huge sticker AND some of my chocolate morsels.

He was so thrilled that he went and did it again for chocolate.

He screams for chocolate. I scream for poop not on my floor.

We both won.

Now to get him to understand the concept of toilet paper usage after the big poop. He currently just pulls his pants up straight after. Who knew this was such a complicated process.

It's not you it's me

sorry for the "F" word. This is totally worth it though. 

It's going to be another terrible day!!!

I'm due for it. I had a nice day a few days ago, and now I must pay for it two fold.

It is currently 10:12 in the morning. 

So far....

I have found a comment on my white bored from my husband- agreeing with me.... that I suck. Got to read that little added gem first thing this morning and promptly left him a nasty letter for him to drop dead.

I left my coffee on the table to tend to the chicken and James dumped it all over him, my rug, and my table. 

He then took out Watt's potty and drank the pee and dumped that all over his body and face while I was cleaning up the coffee stains off my rug.

Daniel Tiger is not on right now because the husband changed the TV from Satellite to Cable. All the channels are different now.

 My son is throwing a terrible shit storm because he thinks Sesame Street and PBS suck. He likes NJTV or BBC World News.

James who is supposed to be taking a nap, is refusing to, even though he is over tired from destroying my patience. 

My baby chicken is still sick, not dead, but is not improving... I don't think the antibiotics are working or she is just taking advantage of sleeping on my tea towels in my kitchen while being spoon fed. 

The other chickens are not getting any better either, or worse... so who knows what they have, I'm sure it's contagious, I'm waiting for it to strike me so I can die terribly and make headlines on the news.. 

I also have stopped breast feeding which has led to my brain cells to grow back and my hormones to flood into action. It's taking all my strength not to take a baseball bat to something. 

I suppose in a way this is my baseball bat... and I'm beating the shit out of my reasons to give up. 

I use this blog to talk myself off the cliff.....

to calm down...

to take a breather. 

to keep myself from driving into the city and hitting random, pretty, single young people with my car just for shits and giggles. 

or to keep the rope off my neck and away from that very strong looking branch that looks capable of holding my weight. 

or to stop myself from sticking those kids on the curb along with my mom badge saying "for sale"

So- yeah. 

I feel better. 

Thank you blog.... for this amazing beat down.

Now I'm off to make more coffee, and supervise my kid play Daniel Tiger on my phone while we wait for the potty muncher to wake from his well needed nap. 

It helps to just walk away for a minute to assess the situation. 

Fiction

Sorry, not my best... very very quick sketch to get the point across. 

My dad thinks that I should try my hand at writing a fiction children's story. I don't think I have ever really written anything fiction. I had dreams about it all night. I thought maybe the best way to write a fiction story was to find a really interesting photograph and write about it.

When I was a kid hanging out with my best buddy Claire we would sometimes play a game where we would sit and watch people walk by. We would make up stories about them. Claires stories were always very enthusiastic and nice.... mine where always mean, and negative...the worst case possible for that person. 

Claire: see's a woman in a business suit wearing sneakers on her way to work. 

"That's Claudine, she works at a fortune 500 company, she is the boss of everyone and she has a mansion and 5 kids. She can do it all!"

Me: see's the same woman. 

"Nope, that's Hildaguard, or at least used to be. She is trying desperately to get her marriage back after sleeping with her co-worker who got her hooked on meth. She had 3 kids but now they hate her because she is a troll. She only just got another job and is trying desperately to get her husband back, but he's gone now because he's sleeping with Hildy's best friend Martha.... Martha Stewart. Nobody can top Martha, and Hildy knows this. At least she has her Meth! , which is the only comfort she has now-a-days"

With that Claire would look at me wide eyed...."Oh Liz.... can't you just say something nice for once?"

"Nope! Life sucks! Open your eyes, look at these people. They aren't happy, nobody is! They are all salves to "the man."

So dad... I don't really know much about children's stories. I still have that edge that may not be appropriate for kids. 

Oh screw it. 

Here! Here is a story. 

**************************** A lovely children's fiction story **************************

by: Liz the great

Once Upon a time there was an old house. It was put up for sale, and soon a nice little family moved into it. They had a two year old and a 2 month old... boys. It was a fine old house that needed some love and repair. 

This old house was special! It could talk! 

The new family liked it when the house talked to them. The floors laughed when you cleaned them. The walls commented on how pretty they looked with the new art work and pretty colorful paint. The windows admired their new curtains. The rugs loved the vacuum and the vacuum loved the rugs! 

Even the toilets talked. "You missed a spot!" they would yell. Especially if it was your hiney.

The toilets were hungry! They liked it when people peed and poo'd. They especially loved the poo. It made them feel so happy!

One day the two year old boy was told to use the potty. The toilets' were overjoyed to have a new friend. They loved the little boy's hiney. 

They couldn't wait for poo! 

But one day the little boy went and poo'd on the floor!

The floors were scared! So very scared of the poo... they screamed in pain. "I'm DIRTY!!! " they cried. They were soooo very dirty. The vacuum cried too because he could not help to clean the poo off the floor. The toilet cried because he wanted the poo! He was so sad because the little boy was scared of him. 

The little boy hated the toilet! 

The floors were scared of the little boy. 

The vacuum was sad. 

No one was happy!

But one day the little boy went poo on the potty! 

The toilet was overjoyed! He sang with delight! 

The floors cheered and sang. 

The vacuum wooshed around and happily hoovered up the floors in celebration. 

The little boy HAD SAVED THE DAY! Everyone was so happy again!

After that....

The little boy always went to the potty. 

The toilet became his very best friend. 

And they lived happily ever after. 

********************

Fin

There ya go. 

I feel good about it. I think I could totally be a children's author. I made sure not to curse. I think it's going to get one of those gold circle seal things on it. Yup it's a winner all right!

Happy Mothers Day

My mom, with her odd eyes, and her quietness.... This was taken a really long time ago, but this is how I best remember her as a child. 

Little Mango is still alive. I have been nursing her like a newborn since Thursday. It is now Sunday. She still has her head on backwards and walks backwards into corners. I have to hold her head still and take a syringe and feed her water and baby food with her antibiotics.

After I feed her I lay her on her side and put the heat lamp on her for a few minutes. She perks up, opens her eyes, says "thanks" and then tucks her head upside down and under her body.

 She is improving a little bit everyday. I think she may actually make it. The reason I bring this up is because it's Mothers Day. AND...I think I learned how to care for creatures from my mom. My mom is a nurse.

 I would say she was a nurse (she's retired now)... but really my mom has always been and will be a nurse... because she's damn good at it, and seems to always be nursing someone, or giving advice on how or what to do with a sickness or disease, or even just the common cold. She's very intuitive and quick to react.

She has a great story. My mom was born in England during the end of World War II. Her school was bombed, her neighbors homes were bombed... there was a curfew... she wasn't allowed out at night. She even had a black cloak with a muff that her grandmother gave to her. They wore it at night when they walked the streets... actually I'm not sure about this story... I 'm recalling this story from when she told it to me in the bathtub when I was around 7 or 8.

I was very close to my mom. I would take baths with her at night and she would tell me all sorts of stories about her childhood which was way different from mine. I always asked her "do you think we would have been friends if we had been the same age?" "No... I don't think so" she would say. "We are much different in personality"
You could always count on my mom to be brutally honest.
She is a quiet woman... never raises her voice, and will never have a fight with you. I am the opposite. She often looks at me shaking her head and says "I just don't know where you learned that... or why you do that..." I'm a loud mouth, speak my mind, get in your face kind of girl. My mom though....

She doesn't speak her mind if it's offensive, and never says anything to a stranger that is " off color". My mom is very old fashioned. She was raised in an age where children were to be seen but not heard. She is great for advice if you need it. She always has a one liner for you that is valuable.

"What comes around goes around" is one of my favorites.
or
"Always choose your battles"

I feel as though young people don't have lines like that anymore.

Once in a while my mom will get this look in her eye... a glint, and a funny friendly smile. It's youthful.... I can almost see her curls spring up as she remembers a funny story that I haven't heard before. She has had a great life. She has seen and done almost everything....
Almost....
But not quite.

What she really Fancy's is to take flying lessons. She LOVES to fly. She also has no fear of heights... or speed... unlike me. Who nearly poops their pants the minute the plane leaves the ground.

We went flying in a tiny little plane up in the Adirondacks, Lake Placid one summer. She was driving by... and it said, "Come fly with us Today!" My mom was like, " I want to go flying!", she pulled into this tiny little airport next to the Lake Placid Horse Show.... and we waited for our turn to get into a plane. I think I must have been about 9 or 10 at the time.
She had that look.... of excitement. She was so happy. I liked her best when she was lit up like Christmas. I learned a lot about my mom that day... and about myself.

We walked out and got into a plane smaller then my car, and scrambled into the death trap of a back seat. The pilot got in and put his earmuffs on. I was really excited! (This is before I knew that I was scared of planes, speed, and heights).

I was so busy looking out the window... the engine starts. The whole plane shudders. [Is this safe? Is this normal? Is it supposed to sound and feel like this?] Are my thoughts.... We turn... the guy mumbles some lingo into his mic... and we are off... down the runway full of potholes and death.... my mom grabs my arm and squeezes it. Her face lights up... I can see every tooth in her mouth, and her eyes which are odd colors went from green and brown to green and blue. (This is true emotion she was feeling). Her eyes have changed color people.

Anyway, we are flying down the runway, I immediately know that I have made a terrible choice of sitting in this plane. I ask them to stop... but no one can hear me over the roar of the engine. We are up! Up UP and away....
into the turbulence, and flying around mountains.... very close to mountains, dipping and weaving, dropping 50' here being pushed 70' sideways there.... my mom is over the moon. I have now noticed the silver duck tape holding the plane together... I am not thrilled. I feel as though I have left all of my blood on the ground.

Anyway, we got to see Toad Hall from a plane, which made my moms day. She kept grabbing my arm and pulling me over to her side of the death trap. I was clung to my lap belt and was waiting for my life to end.

 So this brings me back to "Would we be friends if we were the same age?" "No" We are totally different people, almost opposites.

I do love to see that woman happy though. Its hard to get that look from her now a days. She's done everything. Nothing really ruffles her feathers anymore. She is content watching her "football" (soccer) on the TV. She loves it. I hate it.... She can sit all day and read a book, I can sit for one hour and read a book about horses.

She does love my kids though.... they make her laugh and smile. And my two year old loves her more then me... I totally understand it though... because I too love her that much.
What goes around comes around I suppose.
She gave love, and now she gets it back two fold.

She's a tough old bird.. my mom. She will give you the shirt off her back. She can pull a tooth out of her own mouth without pain medication or fainting. She can beat you in Trivia Pursuit, She makes a mean cheese cake, She loves to jitterbug to big bands like Glen Miller, and she still smokes and drinks because she knows it ain't going to kill her.

She also has a fine collection of silver, china, and porcelain Royal Dalton figurines, yet her favorite fast food is Taco Bell, and a cheese steak, and pouts like a three year old if you tell her to eat her vegetables.

She could be one of the most interesting people I know, and now... you know a little about her too. She is  truly a great woman, and I'm proud to have her as my mum.
She is my best friend.... and the woman I go to for everything.

I love her more then I love myself.

Sick birds, Rain and Flowers

I dropped Watts off with my mom yesterday for another sleep over. I was able to clean the entire house in under two hours. This is definitely my happiest time... when I am surrounded by cleanliness and order. I tend to freak out and get very agitated by slop, mess, untidiness, chaos, noise..... I wonder if I'm slightly Autistic?

Most that know me would say "YES!"

Anyway, I went out to check on my birds this morning.
Little Mango was sitting on the ground with her head on backwards... they are kinda like owls... they can turn there heads around .... its a freak show.

At first I thought Mango fell off the big bird perch and broke her neck... but on closer inspection I think she is close to dying from sickness... she is trying so hard to breath and is definitely trying to get something off or out of her throat. I might as well be ringing her neck... she does this seizure like motion weave with her head.

I brought her inside, put her in a diaper box, gave her a stuffed animal to hang out with, and put a heating lamp on her... she appreciated it all. She just wants me to stay with her and stroke her and hold her head still. She seems the most content when I support her head, so she can take a peace nap.

The vet was on his way here.... and then I received a phone call that he had an emergency and he would have to reschedule. I told the lady on the phone that I too had an emergency. My birds are in risk of not making it through the night.

Rogue is also extremely ill. She was sleeping in the mud today, AND let me pick her up and put her in a Tupperware container with some dry bedding. She is currently sleeping in the shed, away from the other birds. She too likes me to stroke her head, and talk to her....

Birds are intelligent creatures. They have feelings, and they are masters of communicating with their eyes. They have almost human eyes, with expression. You can really see through them if they are happy, sad, sick, or mad. Birds also like to hide the fact that they are sick... which is why if they are acting sick... it is much worse then they are letting on. They are tough bastards!

So while waiting, I cleaned the house, and to cheer me up I picked some flowers. Purple Iris's are growing in the garden now. I picked them along with some lilacs and used some of my Hosta leaves to fill in the rest. It certainly cheers me up on such a shitty- rainy gloomy day.

Sick Chickens on the Homestead

So, I have a lot to learn about chickens. They are complicated little creatures. It's not at all like having a dog or a cat that you can put into a carrier and take to the vet.

I think Rogue must have been sick when I found her and put her with my flock. She looked somewhat sickly at the time... I should have known better. Learning lesson #1. Quarintine new birds for three weeks! 

It was the first week of Spring, so I cleaned the chicken coop, and changed out all the shavings, and hosed down the walls and scrubbed everything. I then went out and got some chicks and added it to my flock. This all happened within a week about three weeks ago?

Next thing I know Regina is coughing and sneezing and making terrible wheezing sounds. 

I put garlic powder in their water to help naturally cure their cold. 

I thought that maybe it was the dust from the new bedding, or maybe the damp cold air from hosing down the sides of the coop. 

Anyway, now all of my adult hens are sick. I can't give them medicine because I don't know whats wrong with them. 

Ginger told me to call her horse vet. He makes house calls and has chickens. 

This is going to cost a fortune. For chickens....

Anyway, he is coming tomorrow at 12. Fingers crossed that the medication that they need doesn't cost a small fortune. We aren't rolling in money at the moment. 

This morning I opened the coop and normally all the birds come running out to say good morning... today they all walked out slowly, and one was missing. I opened the inside of the coop and there was Martha... still sitting on her perch looking terribly lethargic. Her comb is starting to fade in color and turn blue... which means something is wrong with her air sacs?. This is bad... it's really bad. 

I sat there for a moment petting her, she closed her eyes as I stroked her behind the ear.... I told her to hold on for one more day... "don't you go dying on me now!" I lifted her off the perch and placed her on the ground, she feels lighter then normal. She slowly walked outside to go sit with the other birds... they aren't even interested in looking for bugs. It's a pathetic site. 

I went in and made some hot oatmeal and rice crispee cereal mash for them. This should warm their tummies. I brought it out to them...they gathered around eating and coughing... normally its' a brawl to get to the food. They gathered around the bowl all taking turns. What is going on?! Friendly, Docile Girls eating nicely together without pecking each other? There is definitely something wrong.

Anyway, I put up a video of my birds on You Tube and Facebook. Once I know whats wrong with them, I will tell the world what these symptoms need. 

Anyway, Enjoy the video of my sick birds. 

The Red Hen is Martha, the large hen next to Martha  is Regina, the Hen in the back is Becky, and the skittish hen in the corner that is lacking a comb on top of her head is Rogue. 

When it rains its pours.

I know you may think that I have the perfect life, the way I go on about how great this and that is...and blah blah blah... but man I got to say, that when things go wrong... they really go wrong.

Its a fairly nice day out... I was in a fairly ok mood. I was trying once again to get Watts to poop on the potty. He sat there on the potty for an hour or so.... every five minutes he would get up and bring me his pee. It started to get really annoying. "That's great Watts... I don't really care till I see poop. I just want to see poop now.. ok?" "I went poop!" he kept saying... it was always just pee.

I became desensitized to it. I turned my energy to feeding James. I was getting frustrated with James because he spits his food out all over me... I hate feeding babies. I HATE IT!
They are so gross. I just can't do it. So I was already really annoyed. When I hear.
"Mommy I need wipes! "

There stood watts, standing over a huge turd on the floor.

I broke down... I just can't do this anymore. I fucking quit.
I just started to cry... (more like heaving sobs)....... and I am not one to cry. I like to think I'm tough. You punch me in the face, and I will laugh and punch you back harder... these things don't bother me.

But... this? repetitive brain fucking? I just snapped. I started to scream... not at Watts... just at the world. My head started to shake, tears started to pour, and I fell to the floor, and started to rip my hair out... I just had a complete nervous breakdown...in front of Watts, who immediately ran to the potty, sat on it, covered in his shit and started to cry... "Mommy I'm so sorry I pooped on the floor!, I'm so sorry!" My two year old was clearly upset over my behavior.

I wanted to run from the house, jump in my car and drive to Florida, where I could join the horse community and start my life over.

I stared at Watts through my breakdown, and knew that I had to gather my mind back together and take care of these boys. I was scaring the shit out of him.

As we cried, I cleaned his shit up.... and both Watts and I comforted each other... he was sad that he had caused me to snap.... and I was sad that my two year old may never poop on the potty... he just isn't ready. I will be dealing with poop for the rest of my fucking life... and that's OK! Because I deserve it. I deserve to clean up shit. This is my life, I chose to have children... and this is what it's all about. Dirty shitty poop, vomit, dirt, snot, tears, you name it, it will touch you and your things.

So, I got him all cleaned up and went outside and found an old dirty cigarette on the ground and smoked it... and hoped that it would give me lung cancer... and hated the taste, but pretended that I was back in art school... when the only thing that I worried about was- if I would have enough gas to get home.

I gave the boys a hug and kiss.... and we all took a bath. The boys were thrilled... splashing around... soaking everything in site. I put the clothes in the washing machine, everything covered in shit.... and then I heard something awful. The washing machine drum had come undone, and was beating itself against the outer box of the machine.... it was totally done... broken. fucking SHIT!

Fine.... that's great.
I tell the hubster... he has a mini breakdown about cost of things, how his arm hurts, and how his life sucks because he has really bad allergies.... he's miserable... so of course... I let him know that I'm on the verge of snapping. I can't do this mom thing anymore. I pulled the trump card on him, totally not fair to him... I admit.

And with that... James had diarrhia  all over his crib.... all over himself... on the bumpers.. you name it, it has to be washed.

Fine... that's great. Bring it on!
Just shoot me in the fucking face.

I'm almost hysterically laughing at this point. I take the wet laundry out of the machine to find... a
DIAPER! When diapers go into the washing machine they release gel stuff... everywhere...
not only are all the clothes covered in liquefied crap... but now also covered in gel dot things....

Fine.... that's great.
I will just hang these up on the clothes line and pretend that they are clean, cause I don't know what else to do.... I'm done with this life.
I'm done!
And with that, I sit here writing this blog while Watt's sits in his room playing with his toys refusing to take a nap because he wants me to kill myself.... and James is sound asleep, because he just shit his entire contents out all over his bed....

and I am not OK.... but that's fine.
because this is what my life is all about.

It's great one minute. But man, when SHIT hits the fan, its a real blast.

At least I don't have ALS or Cancer.
This is just another shitty day....
At least it ends.
Right?
It will end.
Its 2:40.
The hubster said it will end when he gets home, he said I could go to the barn.
I have set my timer.
In that way, I am lucky.
So- with that I'm off to clean the rest of the house from the weekend. This is why my Mondays' suck. I took a vacation over the weekend and my house turned into a landfill.

Moral of the story?
Don't put diapers in the washing machine.

James sound asleep after his shit storm

Watts hanging out with the poop laundry

Baby Food Recipes

James (my 9 month old baby) does not like jarred baby food. I suppose this is because I introduced him to my health food that came with nutrition and taste. Whatever I eat he eats.... sometimes this is hard because it isn't baby friendly. Sometimes it's too spicy, or has honey, or is too sharp or hard for him to gum on. I had to get creative.

Everyday, I make a pitcher of my "green juice" in my blender. I normally put 2 green apples, 2 oranges, 1 handful of spinach, 2 peeled carrots, and a dash of cinnamon, blend for one minute and drink it throughout the day.

James will eat baby rice, but gets bored of it. One day I thought to add some of my green juice to it to give it some taste and nutrition. He loved it. He was lunging for the spoon and couldn't get enough of it. My two year old also loves green juice. I only give him a small amount because it has a lot of natural sugars in it from the apples and oranges and I don't want to blow his system . I water it down for him.

Anyway, this got me thinking... I could just blend anything into a juice and add it to his baby rice or oatmeal and it would be better then the baby food in jars.
It takes seconds for me to blend it and store it, and then I have it all day to mix and match as I please.
I can also pour this into ice cube trays and freeze them so he has something to teeth on. I have a pacifier thing that has a clasp with netting. You can put an ice cube or large piece of fruit in it,and the baby can hold it and suck the juices through the netting. It's great.

RECIPES!

Green Juice
Blend:
2 apples
2 oranges
2 carrots
handful of spinach
1-2 cups of water
dash of cinnamon
-mix with rice to thicken to your liking

Hawaiian Delight
Blend:
2 apples
1 orange
3 frozen banana
1 carrot
1/4 cup of water
-mix with rice to thicken it.

The Big Green
Blend:
hand full of spinach
one celery stalk
a pinch of Kale
frozen peas, carrots, and corn
one carrot
1/4 cup of water
-Add to baby rice.

Rice Crispee with Yogurt and Fruit
Let some Rice Crispees soak in whole milk yogurt of your choice till they get soft. Add some cinnamon, or mash some banana or strawberry in it.


Frozen Banana Swirl
Take an over ripe banana and cut it up into small pieces, place in zip lock bag and freeze.
Take frozen banana and put in blender, add a dash of cows milk, coconut milk, soy milk, or almond milk and blend till thick like a milk shake.
Serve.

Pina Collada
Blend
Frozen Pineapple
Silk Coconut Milk
Add rice to thicken

Watts is home and I'm selfish

Watts spent his first three night vacation at Granny's house. I went to go and get him yesterday. It was strange for me to see my toddler after being gone for three days. He was more happy to see James (his 9 month old brother) then he was to see me. 

I guess I can understand his feelings. I'm a monster to him. I yell at him constantly about breaking things in my house, I get mad at him for hurting his baby brother... he is just never doing anything right. 

I would be upset to see me too. 

Granny lets him do whatever he wants and is nice to him. 

He wanted to stay with Granny. 

He did not want to come home with me. 

It wasn't that bad though... I got him in the car, and he was fine. Going home with the monster. I took him to the barn with me, I had some things to do, and he was very good. He fed the horses treats, and stuck to my side. Overall he was a very good boy. 

This morning I fed him breakfast, and told him to go pee on the potty. To my surprise he did his first poop on the potty. He looked in shock. 

Is this a turning point in our relationship?

Could he be a different boy now? I don't know where Watts went... but I'm liking this new kid. I shall name him.... "Cool" 

like from parenthood. 

Anyway, life is ok right now. 

Potty training 

check. 

Baby asleep.

check

Mental Soundness

working on it

The hubster told me this morning that I was "selfish". 

That was a kick to my mental health. 

I mentally punched him in the face....

I just want him to have some friends. A life outside of making money and catering to all of my whims and wants and working on this house. He yelled at me saying that he has no time, he's too busy taking care of things, he has no time for fun... unlike me that is constantly "running away" to go be with horses. 

What a jerk. 

I promptly told him that if I didn't find time for myself I would get a divorce and ditch his kids. 

That shut him up. 

I was going for the wow factor on this, (I like the hubster and the kids... they just don't like me). 

BUT...

I still want him to get a life outside of being a slave to me and the boys. There is always time, if you make it for yourself. 

We can work around a schedule for him. 

He just needs to find something he wants to do first, and then we can go from there. 

Instead, I'm a selfish bitch that sucks the life out of people. 

Oh marriage....

It's just one big blame game. A Duel of the sex's. 

A tug of war of friends, family and life. 

The big suck. 

Bet your sorry now hubster!

Go sign up for Golf lessons on monday. 

just DO it. 

or else. 

Giselle

"I'LL SHOW YOU NUTS!!! How to Train a Crazy Horse"
By Liz


Ginger got me a new horse to work with a week ago. We went to Auction and Ginger spotted this really lovely looking chestnut (orange in color) horse eating hay very quietly. I thought it was a nice horse too... but I think all horses are nice. 

"She's a little over the knee" says Ginger as she stares down this mare. (girl horse). "I have no idea what that means" "Her knee is over the front of her leg, her conformation is not great... but she sure is pretty"

We left before we even saw the pretty horse run around... all we saw of it was... it eating some hay. 
Ginger bought her a few days later. 
We go to pick her up. A man in his 70's comes out of his trailer hut, bow legged, wearing old man jeans, boots, a hat... blazing blue eyes, with crows feet from the sun. You can tell this guy has been around the block a few times. 
"Now... this horse has been returned twice now... she's too much horse for the last two people, she also jumped out of the pen, she sure likes to jump, do you have a good rider?" Ginger just smiles, and replies "yup" I'm sitting there like an idiot not knowing what to think... 

We get the horse on the truck and bring her home. 
My mind is racing. Who is the good rider going to be? I can't wait to watch this person ride the crazy horse! Turns out... this horse is for me. I named her "Giselle" originally I was thinking Gazelle.... but now it's after the ballet called "Giselle". Her show name is "Peasant Girl". 

I waited a few days, and the day had come, I was going to hop on my new horse that is crazy! Whooo can't wait to die. 

To make a long story short. I didn't die. But Giselle does have many issues. One being cross ties. (Ropes that clip onto the horses collar to keep it still while you brush and put stuff on it) 
She hates them, and told us this by kicking a huge hole in the wall. 
Now she gets groomed and tacked up in the ring. She loves to eat grass while being brushed, she is an angel. 
Next, she hates people on her back that own a pair of legs. If you touch her with your heel, she pins her ears back and kicks, or bucks. 
Someone has done something terrible to this girl. Maybe spurs? Maybe kicked the crap out of her.... it's either pain, or fright. 

Next, she hates to run left. She thinks this sucks and likes to give a nice big buck. It doesnt bother me... I think it's cute. 
Anyway, a week later, I have the kicking down to a minimum, and the bucking seems to happen from discomfort which we are still looking into, or balance issues. The great thing about auction horses, is that they are a mystery. 
I jumped her last night. She sure likes to jump. I figure I might as well be a little crazy with her. Let her act out, be as bad as she wants, and all she's going to get in return is a ton of love and praise. She gave a few good bucks last night, and then scared herself... thinking that she was about to get a beat down... nope, nothing but "Thats it? That was cute, c'mon let's ride now, enough of this silly stuff, we are here to have FUN!" And with that, her ears perked forward and she sailed me over a jump.
I jumped off, gave her a hug and kick, and she closed her eyes as if to say. 

I'm home.