I currently have three hens. Two Americana and one Buff Orpington. The Americana chickens lay a light colored blue egg and the Buff lays a brown egg. I noticed the other day that one of the Americana hens had escaped. No surprise seeing as my three year old likes to collect the eggs and does not always shut the door to the nest. So she jumped from two feet out of her hen house. My three year old went to pick her up too rough- he sometimes misses the hold and ends up grabbing them by the wings, where I quickly step in and help him with his hold. He put her back but then I noticed she was limping and her tail was down. A sure sign of pain from something.
That was two days ago. I have been checking up on her and slowly her tail feathers have lifted, showing me that it isn't so bad anymore, but she is still limping.
I ran a nice warm bath for her and placed her in the sink. I cleaned off her feet. She sat there like a queen not minding the warm bath. I put the towel on the counter and she jumped up and snuggled into the towel. I dried off her dinosaur like blue legs and took her outside for some quiet time away from my screaming kids, and nutty chocolate lab Henry who couldn't believe his eyes when he saw a chicken in our kitchen sink.
I went and sat with her with the towel, and gently turned her over onto her back. She didn't fight me as I really looked close to see if she maybe had a "bumble foot"- An open wound that sports an infection and can cause a great deal of pain on the bottom of their weird looking four pronged foot. The bottom of her feet looked to be in excellent condition.
So I started to massage very lightly up her leg that was lame... and worked my way up to her pelvis, all the while looking deep into her wise eyes for any sign of pain. As I reached the painful spot I could tell I found where she was hurting. She closed her eyes and her head relaxed against my thigh.... her head rolled to the side almost as if she was dead. I felt around the bone and the muscle and I could feel that she had pulled her upper thigh-butt muscle. I massaged it very lightly all the while watching her go into a deep sleep. If I had taken a picture of her you would have thought I had a dead chicken in my lap.
I worked my way back up to her foot. The minute I left the painful spot she opened her eyes begging me to go back to that spot. So I did, and once again her head dropped and her head rolled to the side and her beak slowly opened as if to say... "oh yeah thats the spot"
I slowly turned her around on her feet and she once again sat right down into my arms and snuggled into the warm dry towel. I took the moment to talk to her and pet her head... once again she rolled off into a sleep. Eyes closed as I stroked her head and body. All the while making a soft "brr brr brr" sound.
When I was done with cuddle time I put her back in the coop. She still had a limp, but her tail rose up as she took a few gulps of water. I opened the door and she came running over and jumped into my lap again...as if to say, ready for round two.
I get why people love birds. They are wise creatures that have oodles of personality. The problem that I find is that I live on a horse farm. I have three horses soon to be five, a dog, three cats, three kids and a husband. I wish I had that sort of time for each and everyone of my animals and kids everyday. I named my limping chicken "Bumble" the other two don't really have names yet sadly. But now I feel like I know this one on a personal level.
I just hope Bumble heals up quickly. I hate seeing her limp around- but I know she will be fine. She's a tough old girl.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Friday, October 2, 2015
Live like it's your last day
I am full of philosophy's that got me here today and this is why I am maybe the happiest I can be- given the circumstances. (three kids that run me stupid)
To start I suppose I should tell a story about a friend I grew up with in high school. I'm going to change his name because I know he reads this thing and loves his privacy.
His name is Alan. There. Thats a fine name.
So Alan and I have known each other since freshman year of high school. Eighteen or so years. Ouch that is a long time ago. I'm getting old.
Anyway, we became friends because I used to poke him in the back of the head with my pencil and give him a hard time about getting better grades on his test then me. He would try to hang out with me to play pool, or go out for dinner... I liked to hang out with him because he would have this laugh... that would choke him up, and he would start to shake... and it was fun to watch. I like people that laugh at my jokes.
So sure he was a nerd, and was weird, but we had a great time. We both went to college, and we still stayed friends. It seems that every six months or so we still manage to hang out as a ritual. He still has the same laugh.
This last time I hung out with him I noticed something. I noticed that I was doing all the talking. I finally got around to asking him "so what have you done in the last year?"
Keep in mind he is single, no girlfriend, in his mid 30's, has a decent job, his own apartment, isn't ugly, and is a really nice smart guy.
"working" is all he could really say.
For the last four years or so Alan has been working, living by himself, and doing the same thing every single day. He's plays music so he has a hobby... but no vacations or nothing really amazing happened to him.
This guy is living the life I wish I still had. He has no kids, no pets... and can get up and go anywhere. He could live anywhere. He can do anything... and yet. He has a job he hates, and does the same boring thing every single day.... and has lived in a 30 mile radius from the house he grew up in his entire life so far.
I freaked out on him.
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ALAN?!! YOU ARE FREE TO DO ANYTHING! GO LIVE A LIFE! WORK IS NOT A LIFE!!!!
Meanwhile, I had three hours of stuff to tell him that I have been busy with in the last 6 months.... and I don't really have a job. I'm a stay at home mom that runs a horse farm. There is always something happening.
I can't do 95% of the things Alan can do now because I have three kids and way too many animals. That there- is an excuse not to do something. Being single without children or pets gives you free reign to do whatever you want.
My point is, don't make your job your life. There are things out there waiting to be discovered. If I were Alan I would be living in Montana, or Switzerland, or Australia, and would have a job being a scuba diver instructor at the sandals resort or something like that. You don't need a lot of money to get to these places. It's more so you have to have balls and self esteem and courage to do it.
My philosophy has always been. "TAKE A VACATION!" no matter what. At least twice a year. I did- and I was poor for a really long time. I would go on vacation with barely enough money to drive the eight hours to go and sit in a cabin with no running water or electricity and would eat peanut butter sandwiches and hotdogs. AND IT WAS AWESOME! It doesn't matter what it is or where you go, just make it an adventure. We all have friends somewhere that have a place somewhere cool where you can stay for free. Just do it!
The happiest people I know are independent, have lots of hobbies and interests, and live a care free life, but work hard.
Poor Alan... he just works hard... to do nothing.
He could drop dead tomorrow. Did he have a happy life? A fulfilling life? Nope. He hates his life, his job...his boss- and you know what? I don't feel sorry for him because he is an idiot. I told him that to his face.
He laughed.
To start I suppose I should tell a story about a friend I grew up with in high school. I'm going to change his name because I know he reads this thing and loves his privacy.
His name is Alan. There. Thats a fine name.
So Alan and I have known each other since freshman year of high school. Eighteen or so years. Ouch that is a long time ago. I'm getting old.
Anyway, we became friends because I used to poke him in the back of the head with my pencil and give him a hard time about getting better grades on his test then me. He would try to hang out with me to play pool, or go out for dinner... I liked to hang out with him because he would have this laugh... that would choke him up, and he would start to shake... and it was fun to watch. I like people that laugh at my jokes.
So sure he was a nerd, and was weird, but we had a great time. We both went to college, and we still stayed friends. It seems that every six months or so we still manage to hang out as a ritual. He still has the same laugh.
This last time I hung out with him I noticed something. I noticed that I was doing all the talking. I finally got around to asking him "so what have you done in the last year?"
Keep in mind he is single, no girlfriend, in his mid 30's, has a decent job, his own apartment, isn't ugly, and is a really nice smart guy.
"working" is all he could really say.
For the last four years or so Alan has been working, living by himself, and doing the same thing every single day. He's plays music so he has a hobby... but no vacations or nothing really amazing happened to him.
This guy is living the life I wish I still had. He has no kids, no pets... and can get up and go anywhere. He could live anywhere. He can do anything... and yet. He has a job he hates, and does the same boring thing every single day.... and has lived in a 30 mile radius from the house he grew up in his entire life so far.
I freaked out on him.
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ALAN?!! YOU ARE FREE TO DO ANYTHING! GO LIVE A LIFE! WORK IS NOT A LIFE!!!!
Meanwhile, I had three hours of stuff to tell him that I have been busy with in the last 6 months.... and I don't really have a job. I'm a stay at home mom that runs a horse farm. There is always something happening.
I can't do 95% of the things Alan can do now because I have three kids and way too many animals. That there- is an excuse not to do something. Being single without children or pets gives you free reign to do whatever you want.
My point is, don't make your job your life. There are things out there waiting to be discovered. If I were Alan I would be living in Montana, or Switzerland, or Australia, and would have a job being a scuba diver instructor at the sandals resort or something like that. You don't need a lot of money to get to these places. It's more so you have to have balls and self esteem and courage to do it.
My philosophy has always been. "TAKE A VACATION!" no matter what. At least twice a year. I did- and I was poor for a really long time. I would go on vacation with barely enough money to drive the eight hours to go and sit in a cabin with no running water or electricity and would eat peanut butter sandwiches and hotdogs. AND IT WAS AWESOME! It doesn't matter what it is or where you go, just make it an adventure. We all have friends somewhere that have a place somewhere cool where you can stay for free. Just do it!
The happiest people I know are independent, have lots of hobbies and interests, and live a care free life, but work hard.
Poor Alan... he just works hard... to do nothing.
He could drop dead tomorrow. Did he have a happy life? A fulfilling life? Nope. He hates his life, his job...his boss- and you know what? I don't feel sorry for him because he is an idiot. I told him that to his face.
He laughed.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Pet Peeves- the list gets worse every year.
We all have those little things that drive us nuts. I have a long list... and I would like to think I am an easy going person, and easy to live with....
How many of these things bother you? Am I just a weirdo nut case? Is it so much to ask that people to notice these things too?
Lets start the list shall we?
Here it goes.
Bathroom:
1. When I sit on the toilet my eyes hurt when I see dust bunnies in the corners. You know... those little wads of hair, dust and dirt that has managed to wedge itself along the corner of a baseboard?
2. Toilet rings! There is a thing called a toilet brush. When a ring starts to form just take that brush and give it a good ring around... we have a huge problem with this since no one I live with likes to flush "yellow water" the grey bio film... It drives me mental. Toilet brush... is my favorite friend these days.
3. Dried toothpaste on the handle of a toothbrush. My mom was the worst with this. Even as a child I would always know which brush was her because the handle would be covered in a dried chalky toothpaste. I don't know why this really bothered me.
4. Toothpaste gobs on the countertops. I find myself scrubbing globs of toothpaste off of the sink basin and countertops. I'm going to blame the hubster and boys for this one. It pains me to take a sponge and smear it around till it comes off.... it makes me gag. Call me a freak.
5. Hair in the drain of the bath tub. Ok people... it's my hair. I'm shedding like a dog right now... and I keep clogging up the drain with large amounts of hair... but I still cringe when I have to pick up that soft wet mass of nastiness out of the drain. I curse myself... on the verge of shaving my own head so I don't have to deal with this gross act of femininity.
6. Wet floors. I'm big on stepping out of the shower onto a floor mat. The hubster however takes his big hobit feet and marches his little wet flippers all over the hard floor... and I'm a sock wearing person. So my socks are always wet. Worst feeling ever. Cold wet soggy feet. The worst.
7. Toilet paper facing the wrong way or toilet paper rolls with no toilet paper conveniently sitting on the toilet paper holder. People of the world. The toilet paper should be facing on top and go down. and...it's really not that hard to change the holder.
Floors:
I was raised with the constant sound of a vacuum cleaner going. I used to sit in bed at 9 am and curse my mother for vacuuming. The sound still makes me angry, but alas her hard work paid off because now I am super sensitive to dirt on the floor. I notice dirty floors. Thanks mom for that!
My mom also made me super sensitive to dirty stairs. She would clean the stairs every other day. I thought she was nuts... Now I notice all the dust bunnies on them, and do the same things. Thanks again mom... for another anal retentive trait.
I really don't like to mop the floors. I feel like I'm just swooshing around wet dirt, and bacteria. Call me crazy... but when I do mop I do it till that water isn't brown anymore... which takes me a good hour and the floors are so wet you can't walk on them for hours.
Windows:
Tiny hand prints on the windows.... or tv. I have learned to just ignore it, but when my mom comes over, she has a field day windexing the life back into them.... only to find them completely clouded with more pudgy hand prints again ten minutes later. That's a lost cause. But I do notice it, but have forced my eyeballs to see through it.
Sinks:
Once again my mom is weird about scrubbing the sink. She doesn't like to see water marks or dirty sinks. We have a white farm sink. Mom lives in England. I still scrub the crap out of our sink thinking she will be over any second to tell me how dirty my sink is. I wasn't born with the dirty sink syndrome, that was trained into me. Don't get me started on dusty wood shelves.
Food:
Loud chewing sounds or gulping sounds. Just shoot me in the face. I just can't handle it. I will call you out about it, and come close to slapping you if you make disgusting noises near me while chewing your cud. This is why I rarely sit in a quiet room while eating with someone else. I just can't be a nice companion.
Leftovers gross me out. I find them to be smelly, and I can't bring myself to reheat them. You might as well put a bag of horse poo in my fridge. I aint going near that.
Condiments sitting next to the milk. Condiments not located on the door, Food and drinks on the same shelf? No organization... things aren't in their place? No. No. No. You have messed with the wrong person.
Peanut butter in the fridge? NO! Bread in the fridge. NO!!! I can't stand for such absurd things. Way to make my peanut butter spreading days impossible.
The crisper drawer.... ugh. You might as well call it the "lets hide a bunch of parishables and never see them again until they turn to liquid nastiness" The hubster loves to buy bags of carrots and spinach. I never see them until the smell hits me, and I have liquid veggie yogurt sitting in the hidden drawer of nastiness.
Opening new stuff while the old stuff slowly makes it's way to the back of the fridge. The hubster is great at putting new milk right in front of old milk... no no no. The old stuff goes in front of the new stuff people. Get on board with this. Nothing worse then having a milk competition of lets see which one doesn't get used because we don't know how old it is. I don't do sniff testing. If it needs to be sniffed just throw it out.
Trash:
So much trash... everywhere. My trash can is constantly over flowing. It usually does this when the bag falls down and more trash get pushed on top. I'm not touching it. I don't do the trash. Yet, when I do- I take the bag handle and wrap it through a loop at the top so the bag doesnt collapse. Such a simple fix unless I wasn't the one to put the bag in there.... and then you have overflowing trash. With the game of "who will deal with this? not me"
Trash under the bag. Whoops I threw some trash into the can with no bag. I'll just ignore it and put a bag over it. NO NO NO! Pick that stuff out lazy people.
Oh I'm exhausted. I can go on for days.
But wait there's more.
DISHES!!!!
in the sink, food stuck to them, not washed.
the smell....the eye sores.... I can't deal with it.
I need a clean empty sink. Once dishes start to pile up I start to rage in my little head. I get angry, and start banging the dishes together cursing the idiot that did this to me.
Food stuck to pots, pans, forks.... there is a reason why I'm rail thin. Once I see this, I go on a eating strike. I curse food for existing, and vow never to eat again. Till I get hungry and have to clean up... again. It's a never ending cycle of mysery for me. I really just don't like dealing with dishes.
Laundry:
I don't like clothes either. I don't like clothes on the floor, I don't like folding clothes, I don't like washing clothes. If it were up to me I would like to just throw dirty clothes in the trash can instead of dealing with them. This is why I have uniforms.... I wear the same outfit everyday until it is crusty, or falling off my body. I don't care. I hate doing laundry. The hubster is terrible with his laundry, he hides it and makes these piles around his closet that look like little beaver dens. His solution is to kick it into his closet and they magically go away. He has no clothes to wear. I refuse to deal with that. Call me a bad wife. I don't care. We have 5 laundry baskets in every room. If the clothes don't make it in there, they ain't getting washed.
Socks:
I have a rogue sock basket. One a month I go through the rogue basket and match the socks. All of a sudden we have tons of matching socks. I try to mentally make a game of it. "Oh good" today I'm going to test my brain to see how many different navy blues, blacks, and dark browns I can separate in the fastest amount of time. Ready go.
And yet with all these pet peeves... my house is still a mess. I have become numb to it all... I can only do so much. I feel like Bob with a jar around my neck with a goldfish. Babysteps to not freaking out.... the world will not end. Everything bothers me. My little head is always freaking out over such small stupid things. And then I hear my mothers voice. "It doesn't matter, just let it go"
Let it go where? It never stops.
Things could be worse. I could have no arms... and I wouldn't be able to deal with half of this stuff on a daily basis. NO ARMS! Better yet. No eyes... to see it all avalanching towards me.
My little bubble...is neurotic.
How many of these things bother you? Am I just a weirdo nut case? Is it so much to ask that people to notice these things too?
Lets start the list shall we?
Here it goes.
Bathroom:
1. When I sit on the toilet my eyes hurt when I see dust bunnies in the corners. You know... those little wads of hair, dust and dirt that has managed to wedge itself along the corner of a baseboard?
2. Toilet rings! There is a thing called a toilet brush. When a ring starts to form just take that brush and give it a good ring around... we have a huge problem with this since no one I live with likes to flush "yellow water" the grey bio film... It drives me mental. Toilet brush... is my favorite friend these days.
3. Dried toothpaste on the handle of a toothbrush. My mom was the worst with this. Even as a child I would always know which brush was her because the handle would be covered in a dried chalky toothpaste. I don't know why this really bothered me.
4. Toothpaste gobs on the countertops. I find myself scrubbing globs of toothpaste off of the sink basin and countertops. I'm going to blame the hubster and boys for this one. It pains me to take a sponge and smear it around till it comes off.... it makes me gag. Call me a freak.
5. Hair in the drain of the bath tub. Ok people... it's my hair. I'm shedding like a dog right now... and I keep clogging up the drain with large amounts of hair... but I still cringe when I have to pick up that soft wet mass of nastiness out of the drain. I curse myself... on the verge of shaving my own head so I don't have to deal with this gross act of femininity.
6. Wet floors. I'm big on stepping out of the shower onto a floor mat. The hubster however takes his big hobit feet and marches his little wet flippers all over the hard floor... and I'm a sock wearing person. So my socks are always wet. Worst feeling ever. Cold wet soggy feet. The worst.
7. Toilet paper facing the wrong way or toilet paper rolls with no toilet paper conveniently sitting on the toilet paper holder. People of the world. The toilet paper should be facing on top and go down. and...it's really not that hard to change the holder.
Floors:
I was raised with the constant sound of a vacuum cleaner going. I used to sit in bed at 9 am and curse my mother for vacuuming. The sound still makes me angry, but alas her hard work paid off because now I am super sensitive to dirt on the floor. I notice dirty floors. Thanks mom for that!
My mom also made me super sensitive to dirty stairs. She would clean the stairs every other day. I thought she was nuts... Now I notice all the dust bunnies on them, and do the same things. Thanks again mom... for another anal retentive trait.
I really don't like to mop the floors. I feel like I'm just swooshing around wet dirt, and bacteria. Call me crazy... but when I do mop I do it till that water isn't brown anymore... which takes me a good hour and the floors are so wet you can't walk on them for hours.
Windows:
Tiny hand prints on the windows.... or tv. I have learned to just ignore it, but when my mom comes over, she has a field day windexing the life back into them.... only to find them completely clouded with more pudgy hand prints again ten minutes later. That's a lost cause. But I do notice it, but have forced my eyeballs to see through it.
Sinks:
Once again my mom is weird about scrubbing the sink. She doesn't like to see water marks or dirty sinks. We have a white farm sink. Mom lives in England. I still scrub the crap out of our sink thinking she will be over any second to tell me how dirty my sink is. I wasn't born with the dirty sink syndrome, that was trained into me. Don't get me started on dusty wood shelves.
Food:
Loud chewing sounds or gulping sounds. Just shoot me in the face. I just can't handle it. I will call you out about it, and come close to slapping you if you make disgusting noises near me while chewing your cud. This is why I rarely sit in a quiet room while eating with someone else. I just can't be a nice companion.
Leftovers gross me out. I find them to be smelly, and I can't bring myself to reheat them. You might as well put a bag of horse poo in my fridge. I aint going near that.
Condiments sitting next to the milk. Condiments not located on the door, Food and drinks on the same shelf? No organization... things aren't in their place? No. No. No. You have messed with the wrong person.
Peanut butter in the fridge? NO! Bread in the fridge. NO!!! I can't stand for such absurd things. Way to make my peanut butter spreading days impossible.
The crisper drawer.... ugh. You might as well call it the "lets hide a bunch of parishables and never see them again until they turn to liquid nastiness" The hubster loves to buy bags of carrots and spinach. I never see them until the smell hits me, and I have liquid veggie yogurt sitting in the hidden drawer of nastiness.
Opening new stuff while the old stuff slowly makes it's way to the back of the fridge. The hubster is great at putting new milk right in front of old milk... no no no. The old stuff goes in front of the new stuff people. Get on board with this. Nothing worse then having a milk competition of lets see which one doesn't get used because we don't know how old it is. I don't do sniff testing. If it needs to be sniffed just throw it out.
Trash:
So much trash... everywhere. My trash can is constantly over flowing. It usually does this when the bag falls down and more trash get pushed on top. I'm not touching it. I don't do the trash. Yet, when I do- I take the bag handle and wrap it through a loop at the top so the bag doesnt collapse. Such a simple fix unless I wasn't the one to put the bag in there.... and then you have overflowing trash. With the game of "who will deal with this? not me"
Trash under the bag. Whoops I threw some trash into the can with no bag. I'll just ignore it and put a bag over it. NO NO NO! Pick that stuff out lazy people.
Oh I'm exhausted. I can go on for days.
But wait there's more.
DISHES!!!!
in the sink, food stuck to them, not washed.
the smell....the eye sores.... I can't deal with it.
I need a clean empty sink. Once dishes start to pile up I start to rage in my little head. I get angry, and start banging the dishes together cursing the idiot that did this to me.
Food stuck to pots, pans, forks.... there is a reason why I'm rail thin. Once I see this, I go on a eating strike. I curse food for existing, and vow never to eat again. Till I get hungry and have to clean up... again. It's a never ending cycle of mysery for me. I really just don't like dealing with dishes.
Laundry:
I don't like clothes either. I don't like clothes on the floor, I don't like folding clothes, I don't like washing clothes. If it were up to me I would like to just throw dirty clothes in the trash can instead of dealing with them. This is why I have uniforms.... I wear the same outfit everyday until it is crusty, or falling off my body. I don't care. I hate doing laundry. The hubster is terrible with his laundry, he hides it and makes these piles around his closet that look like little beaver dens. His solution is to kick it into his closet and they magically go away. He has no clothes to wear. I refuse to deal with that. Call me a bad wife. I don't care. We have 5 laundry baskets in every room. If the clothes don't make it in there, they ain't getting washed.
Socks:
I have a rogue sock basket. One a month I go through the rogue basket and match the socks. All of a sudden we have tons of matching socks. I try to mentally make a game of it. "Oh good" today I'm going to test my brain to see how many different navy blues, blacks, and dark browns I can separate in the fastest amount of time. Ready go.
And yet with all these pet peeves... my house is still a mess. I have become numb to it all... I can only do so much. I feel like Bob with a jar around my neck with a goldfish. Babysteps to not freaking out.... the world will not end. Everything bothers me. My little head is always freaking out over such small stupid things. And then I hear my mothers voice. "It doesn't matter, just let it go"
Let it go where? It never stops.
Things could be worse. I could have no arms... and I wouldn't be able to deal with half of this stuff on a daily basis. NO ARMS! Better yet. No eyes... to see it all avalanching towards me.
My little bubble...is neurotic.
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