Choosing A Makeover

You know those sinus headaches that go on for a few days?  The ones that drag and hurt and pretty much cloud your entire being?  The kind that no matter what you do for relief, it won't budge?

Well, that familiar little no good pest has been around my head since Thursday.  What options did I have?  Be miserable sitting and doing nothing but complaining about my misery or keep myself occupied with other things and only be aware of the persistent misery when it knocks real hard?  I chose the latter.

The other things mentioned included two fairly late nights out involving some loud music and dancing.  Now, the dancing part really does help keep the pain at bay.  There is a reality bite here in that burning the midnight oil on consecutive nights and getting up early the next day while fighting off a physical challenge does take its toll.

What I want to say doesn't come out right.  I'm more irritated by silly things that on a normal day wouldn't even warrant an eyebrow lift.  I even missed dinner with my friend Bill last night because I couldn't get it together to communicate my intentions.  So, before bed I took some Tylenol night cold syrup.

Bodie woke me up around 2am to go out.  I have no idea how I made it to the door and back because I'm pretty sure I was sleep walking.  The chicklets woke me up around 6:30 with an alarming cheeping which caused enough concern for me to get up.  Upon trying to locate three chicks through very groggy eyes, I found two, and they were in a panic because one was missing.  We found her, tucked up under the flap of the cardboard box.  All was well.  Back to bed I went.

Sometime around 8:30am I got up.  While I knew none of my animals would die if they didn't eat before 9am, I sure felt like if I didn't go back to bed I just might croak.  Nonetheless, out we went for morning chores.  When I finished, I had to think about the list and knew I had covered the compulsories but I sure didn't do them fully awake.

I didn't even have energy to make something to eat.  I had a cup of Throat Coat tea, looked at Facebook, talked to the animals and then decided it was time to nap.  Oh, I'd say three hours went by, occasionally waking up to Bodie barking at any passerby or Pinkie curling up into my back and then getting down and back up again.

I had fed a light breakfast so the horses needed a lunch.  In the meantime, my friend Kim had called to say they could drop off a basketball for the goodles.  I'm not really sure what I said the first time I called her back.  Recognizing my lack of clarity, while I was outside, I sat down in the dry lot and I just looked and listened and breathed.  Shadow and Pippin found their spots to get down close by and chew cud, Red was doodling for his girls, my wild birds were so generous with their songs they induced an immediate smile, the horses were chewing hay, the canal water rushing by, Bodie by the gate listening to the street with one ear and watching me with both eyes, and Pinkie was curled up under my legs seeking comfort from the sound of a neighbor shooting.  Such bliss.  Such peace.  Such gratitude.  My heart smiled.

I called Kim back to invite her and Scott over for quesadillas.  Yum!  Black beans, chipotle sausage, roasted vegetables, mango and avocado.  I could not keep that dish to myself!  A quick dip in the shower, a little straightening up of the house, chop chop vegetables, a little uplifting message from Pema Chodron and we had a feast!

So, yes, I could have chosen to stay in the dark side of my mood and let the physical discomfort rule my day.  But after sitting out with the animals and just taking it all in, I heard them say, "We like it better when you're at peace."  And my day changed.

Getting It Str8.

Just so I understand this correctly, the Boy Scouts has lifted its ban on openly gay boys, but openly gay men are not allowed in the organization.  At least that's what I've been hearing on NPR this afternoon.

Imagine being a parent of a young 12 year old boy who has been struggling with his place in life and has finally realized and is beginning to courageously accept that he is gay.  I would imagine you only want the best for this tender heart coming out to the world which he probably already knows will judge him more for being gay than anything else he does.

He decides to join the Boy Scouts.  You spend the money on the uniform, the meetings, the trips, you drive him back and forth, you listen to the stories of what new skills he learned and about life's values from those who the Boy Scouts put in charge of building character and self-esteem in youth, of being their role model.  You know, the straight guys.

For six years your son excels in the Boy Scouts.  He flourishes, he thrives, he creates, he shares, he is proud of who he has become.  It's his 18th birthday that year.  Now he must separate from the Boy Scouts.  Why?  Not because of behavior unbecoming a Boy Scout, not because he didn't meet the expectations of being a citizen of the community, not because he wasn't kind or respectful to his peers, but because he became of adult age and he's gay.

The Boy Scouts decided to allow gay boys to be part of their organization, but not the respectable, dedicated gay men who grew up in the organization and to whom those developing spirits would look for truth.

Hmmmm, I knew there was a reason I never wanted to be a Boy Scout.

Expect the Unexpected.

Paraphrasing a line from one of my all-time favorite movies, Diner, "If you don't have daydreams, you have nightmares."

And so I drove home after a full day out dreaming about an early evening of completed chores, dinner, reading, maybe indulging in one of the last two recorded episodes of Scandal, and early to bed.  Aaahhh, the luxury of a daydream!

As I was coming up alongside my property, I could see Pippin under the aspen trees.  It sounds storybook like, doesn't it?  But you see, there are no aspen trees in his fenced area.  Quick calculation: will he stay where he is long enough for me to open the gate, back the car in and close the gate again?  I must admit, he was a like deer, frozen in the trees just staring at me.  If it weren't Pippin, I'd half think he felt like a bad boy for getting out.

Success!  I got in the garage.  I realized the other part of my daydream, taking a quick catnap for 10 minutes before heading out for chores, had been dashed and now getting into ranch gear and heading out was priority #1.  The dogs felt otherwise.  Feed the dogs, then go change.

I looked out the window to see Shadow's wiggling tail as he jogged down to the hen house in his spirited caprine style.  With no time to change, I ran down to the hen house to shoo him away from the grain.  There were two eggs under the nesting boxes, so I grabbed those.  Poor calculation:  Carrying two eggs while wearing nice trousers and a pricey jacket made for a very dicey return to the house as the goodles were in "let's play!" mode.  I grabbed the nearest stick and started snapping them on the nose each time they tried one of their tricks until I got in behind the gate.  Whew.

My mom had called as I was first getting home and I told her I'd ring her right back.  Well, it was a good 25 minutes before I got to do that.  We chatted for a few minutes while I changed and checked on the three day old chicklets and once again headed outdoors.  It's always a pleasure to chat with my mother if only for a few minutes.

As I made my way out, the goats were at the gate to the yard.  Thinking it still a treat to make that daydream a reality, I put them in the dog yard to browse on the grass and stay out of my short hair for a spell.  I went on to feed the horses, empty the manure carts and give a snack to the hens who had been following me around literally asking for a snack.  I had been suspicious of Miss Honey Pot and looking at her this evening, I guessed we might be back to being egg bound.

Another quick calculation: Do I pick up Honey and a handful of hay and head straight to the kennel sitting in the dog yard?  Was I nuts!  The saner approach required going back to the dog yard, picking up the kennel and a towel, and pushing back Pippin who then wanted to play with the kennel and block my ability to move quickly.  Escaping the goodle antics, I swept out the kennel and stuffed some hay in it and headed back to set it up in the garage.

Where's Pippin?  He was nowhere to be found in the dog yard.  The gate at the top of the stairs where he got his head stuck last week was latched closed.  I know he didn't jump the fence.  He didn't? Did he?

Sure enough, I open the garage door and who is standing inside? "Ma'aaa."  There was the little one.  He got himself through the dog door and into the garage!  He weighs about 150 pounds.  And what on earth ever possessed him to go through a door he didn't even know existed and certainly had no idea of what was on the other side?!

Tick tick tick, I was feeling my daydream float further away.  Opening the door to get Pippin out and the kennel in required letting Shadow in.  If there is one thing that is an absolute must on this ranch, it is to have peanuts in my pocket at all times.  It's the only way to coax them for anything.  Except Pippin.  He found it cozy to be half in, half out and stretching his neck as far as he could to get that peanut without actually coming out the door.

Finally, I got them out and lured them back into the dry lot where I knew they could not go anywhere (at least they haven't figured anything out yet.)  Honey had gone to the hen house, so I went down to scoop her up and bring her to the garage and sit her in a warm bath.  You wouldn't think chickens like to sit in water, but they find it very relaxing.  I put the plastic cover on the dog door so Bodie and Pinkie couldn't come in and Honey and I enjoyed a quiet 15 minutes together.

The hope is the warm water relaxes her enough that she can pass the egg.  To encourage movement a bit more, I suited up with a latex glove and "personal lubricant" on my fingers and massaged her vent.  Another thing you couldn't imagine a hen sitting still for, but it's quite fascinating to observe what they will tolerate when they sense it is to help them.

So, Honey will spend the night in the garage under a blanket in her kennel with a personal serving of yogurt and banana.  Tomorrow we will do another soak and see if anything has shifted.  I do hope it does.

Still hoping for a cloud of that daydream, I cut my chores a tad short, kissed the four-legged angels goodnight and came inside.  Again, there was another plan in play for me.  It seems that the energy of the feisty goats and the insufferable curiosity of a hen in the garage had the dogs much too keyed up to be inside.

Calculation in moderation: Do I write out my electric bill and take the poodles for a walk to the mailbox so they can burn off that pent up canine juice?  Yes.  It would be in my best interest to do so.  Back on with my coat and shoes, another salutation to Honey as we passed by, and slam go the breaks!  One of my neighbors who walks her four dogs every evening was just passing by.  It's bad enough that Bodie barks and chases the dogs along the fence, I didn't think opening the gate to go walking at that moment was going to help me in attaining my quiet evening plan.

So, we waited for about 10 minutes for them to get to the end of the street and back again past our house, then we set out for a brisk jaunt of peeing, pooping, sniffing and circling.  I am fortunate that they are so good off leash on a walk.  I like to walk fast and it definitely keeps them moving.  Making our way back into the gate, I could hear the pages of my newspaper turning.

While this won't be the early evening I had envisioned, the events of the evening went along rather smoothly, all things considered.  That's the best I can hope for everyday.

Something told me this morning when I was pulling out of the garage and got out to lock the dogs in the yard and I saw Baby stand up and drop an egg right there on the gravel that this was going to be one of those days where you just have to go with the flow.  At least if you expect the unexpected, not too much will catch you by surprise.

Go Ahead. Just Rip My Heart Out

Hate is a very ugly word and if the Dalai Lama can give me a better word to describe this feeling I have, I will use it.  In the meantime, I hate coyotes.

This evening I lost three hens, not including Karen earlier in the week.  And what about Dumpling's injuries which led to her death a few weeks back?  In my deepest of prayers, I ask that two of those hens are up in a tree somewhere and will be back tomorrow.  The fate of the third is certain.

After a very stimulating three hour dance workshop followed by a well deserved enjoyable early dinner with my friend Kim and then a quick stop and try on of many at the essential oils section of Whole Foods, I made my way back home.  As I pulled in the driveway, Red and Honey were coming toward me.  I did think it a bit strange that they would be headed in my direction at 7:45pm but then again, the days are getting longer, so I passed it off as that.

I came in the house to change and then head out to do my evening chores.  It was still plenty light out.  As I came to the hay shed, Honey was perched up on a board and settled in as if to sleep there.  Strange.  And I passed that off as wondering if she was not feeling well again.  I scooped her up and brought her home and as we approached the hen house, she squawked and squirmed.  Why were there only five hens in the house?  Red wasn't there so I passed that off as him being out escorting the last few girls back home.

From out in the dry lot, I heard a rumpus from my neighbor's hen house.  Could have just been the hens settling down for the night except that both Bodie and Pinkie were keying in on something in the air and they were both at the fence on alert.  I called Aaron to ask if his hens were locked in and he told me more or less but that they have lost a few over the past weeks.  Just as he said that, I saw two coyote walking toward his hen house.  In my strongest voice possible that could carry over the rushing canal, I yipped for them to move along.  Aaron was out of town fighting fires being set by a pesky arsonist up in Montana but when he comes back tomorrow, he will set out with his bow and arrow with the intention of taking out a coyote or two.

Hanging up from Aaron, I turned around to notice Red sitting up on the rail of the tack room.  The previous hints of something amiss were passed off, but this was too strange.  I walked him back to the hen house, counted my hens again, closed up the door and started looking around.

I found black and white feathers of one of my Barred Rock hens on both sides of the fence by the hen house.  On the other side, there was a significant pile of them that told me the hen was snatched near the fence on my side, carried over and disposed of on the other side.

The sun was setting and seeing clearly through my tears was becoming a challenge.  I couldn't find any other feathers nearby.  But who was it?  It was either Baby or Alice, my two oldest girls, or Precious, one of my first year babies.

It still leaves two hens unaccounted for, not forgetting Karen.  They would be another one of the Barred Rock hens and either Cat or Helen, one of my Rhode Island Reds.  The hens in the house were tucked in and under so I couldn't tell which one of those were in the house and who was missing.

It is always heart breaking to lose an animal; goodness knows I've said that before.  But to come home and find three of your hens gone, it just rips your heart straight from its safe place behind the ribcage and dangles it out as coyote bait.

What If...

What If... is not a phrase I use often.  I'm more of a it is or it isn't kind of gal.  It will be or won't be, as you wish.  I suppose I use it when teaching to encourage someone to think about something differently.  Lately, I've been finding myself pondering a lot of What If... scenarios.

What If those conveniently located fast food restaurants were replaced by farmer's markets.  Would kids crave strawberries more than french fries?  Would families tend to eat from plates rather than boxes and wrappers?  Would the shocking obesity rate in the US plummet?

What If bumper stickers that read "I drive this way to piss you off" were replaced with "Wag More. Bark Less."  Would people experience more laughter in their day?  Would aggression on the roads diminish?  Would people's anger be appropriately directed and addressed?

What If there were no guns.  There was a time without them.  Would hunters take the time to learn the craft of bow and arrow?  Would disagreements be resolved with words?  Would living peacefully hit the headline news?

What If meat ranchers all had a touch of autism.  Would the treatment of animals for food be more compassionate?  Would the meat have genuine flavor because the animals are not sick, stressed and medicated?  Would humans consume less additives that aren't natural to their diet because they will no longer be needed?

What If those who are most vocal about having their religious freedoms threatened treat everyone else the way they say they would like to be treated.  Would insults and slurs go by the wayside?  Would a young boy named Aalam, whose name means World, have no self-esteem issues because of the way a boy named Adam treated him?

What If everyone sat in meditation or prayer for ten minutes every day.  Would people's health improve as their stress level noticeably decreased?  Would kindness be the first reaction?  Would people find greater happiness in life because they take time to look within for happiness, for their own truth?

What If people educated themselves properly before making a statement about a global issue.  Would there be less fear among the masses?  Would they have to confront their own demons before demonizing others?  Would progress be made because dialogue was based on facts not on regurgitated untruths?

What If people were more aware about global issues?  Would the 3.3 billion women on this planet have the same rights as men?  Would there be as much outrage over the rape of women in the "Democratic" Republic of Congo or Sudan as there is over background checks for gun purchases? Would people learn that every action is just one link in the unbroken global chain?

What If everyone traveled to a foreign country at least once in their life, not including resort towns in Mexico or Canada.  Would there be more patience for those having difficulty speaking the English language?  Would people realize there are many ideas of freedom?

What If everyone unplugged for one day.  After you read my blog.

What If.... This could be a very useful phrase after all.