When possible, I avoid taking medicines and over the counter drugs, preferring effective homeopathic remedies. But, there are times when one must put chemistry over principle and take a prescription in order to feel better.
It's been quite some time since I've had a sinus infection and I don't recall it feeling so terrible. Funny how our memory filters out pain and discomfort for us. Yet, this is what I have and I know there is only one way to rid oneself of that horrid illness and that is antibiotics. It's been a long month of restless sleep, occasional fever, earaches and headaches and overall blahness. I did nothing more than the strictest of minimum required and even passed on some of that. Needless to say, I got behind. In everything.
Today is day five on medication and I woke up feeling like I actually could participate in something with a somewhat clear head and with a renewed energy rather than working from dwindling reserves. Keeping in mind doctor's orders, "don't overdo it", I have done several changes of laundry, cleaned the kitchen and the floors, climbed on all fours into Pinkie's kennel and scrubbed it out, took out the trash and recycling and washed the trash can, done a little work work, caught up on poop scooping, scrubbed some water buckets, played endless fetch with the poodles who were so happy momma could once again fling that ball with some umph, hammered a loose flashing on the horse shelter, fixed a pesky part of the fencing that keeps coming down, watched the Bald Eagle new eaglet activity and the beginnings of the second egg hatching, talked to my mom, topped off with a few more miscellaneous items. And I still have a little left to give!
I'm going to start slowing down for the day as I might be coming close to the overdo limit. It's when your meds really kick in that you realize just how crappy you have been feeling.
Good health is on the horizon! May you be healthy as well.
Showing posts with label chores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chores. Show all posts
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
These Boots Are Made For Walking...
Taking a moment, as I do throughout the day, to appreciate the good in my life, I noted how I could feel in my legs how much they have done for me today.
Morning yoga
Morning chores
Morning 2 mile walk with the poodles
Raking pine needles and cones
Weeding
Watering the deck garden and the lawn
Laundering horse blankets
Trip into Tumalo for a quick shop
Mid-day chores
Two hours of dance classes
Evening chores
A touch of housework
Oh yes, I am grateful for the strength in my legs and feet and for good shoes and clean socks. Next I'll add foot lotion and a supportive bed to my list.
Morning yoga
Morning chores
Morning 2 mile walk with the poodles
Raking pine needles and cones
Weeding
Watering the deck garden and the lawn
Laundering horse blankets
Trip into Tumalo for a quick shop
Mid-day chores
Two hours of dance classes
Evening chores
A touch of housework
Oh yes, I am grateful for the strength in my legs and feet and for good shoes and clean socks. Next I'll add foot lotion and a supportive bed to my list.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
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.
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.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
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.
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.
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