Saturday, December 10, 2022

Silly Ideas.

 Silly Ideas.

 

Has been a while since going out this time of year among others—at least a year, right. And on a Saturday, no less! Well, just wanted to stop by the ATM and pick up enough cash to pay for whatever is needed when it’s time to ask the boys to unload feed for me and the hens. No, the hens are the ones that eat the feed; it's just the eggs that interest me. Anyway, be-bopped over to the Target parking lot—which was pretty busy, by the way. Needed triple A batteries and had not a one here in the house for some reason. Thought an entire package was in the other desk, but no such luck. Anyway, back to the point: Target had one self-help checkout open and one stand in line behind someone open. When my turn was almost up there, they opened another check out with a real person. Could hear the growls plum over the noise. WHY? They KNOW it is going to be busy since everyone with a brain is out doing all the quick shopping they can this weekend. Only one more weekend before all kinds of stuff breaks lose. Oh well. Know at least one person who will be staying at home and staying happily away from others.

 

My friend has that danged virus that is hurting so many, and then she said her grandbaby got sick. She feels she might have caused it. Think Lisa can just relax the guilt trip and do her best to get over the mess. We either get it or we don’t. It will either kill us or not. Like Sterling said recently, we are old. It is not like we are needed to rear children—or grands. Pretty much just sitting here doing our thing. But to tell the truth, really feel like Sterling is still pretty needed—if for no other reason than he makes me remember things we shared years ago. Good memories.

 

Talked to a grandson this afternoon. He was writing an essay about some movie that sounded pretty bad. [The movie sounded bad, not the essay.] That is the sort of thing that would have me wound up and stomping on my soapbox, but he isn’t like that. He has the ability to ignore the BS around him and fluff it off. Maybe sluff it off would be a better term. How would you say “remove the shtuff” nicely? Kids today see [and hear] things we would never have seen 50 years ago. It is definitely a different world.

 

The local animal shelters are busy trying to get all the critters rehomed. We can pray that all of these helpless little ones get decent homes with folks who will really care for them. If spay and neuter were not so expensive, maybe people would try to prevent the unnecessary litters of pups and kittens. But then, the same would be true of all the donkeys and horses. It is terribly expensive to have horses because of all the extra things that it takes to care for them: the right feeds, hoof trimming, vet visits, and decent fences. Knowing how expensive it is to feed hens, can you imagine what it would be like to feed a horse that is bigger than all 13 hens put together! My poor mom put up with a donkey and then a couple of horses in her back yard for years. Not sure how she managed to have that kind of patience. But those critters were well loved. But then so were the dogs and cats, but we never had them neutered, and it was always going to be a risky situation for the animals running around the neighborhood. The rabies vaccines were about the only thing we did for the dogs. Back then, flea collars had not been touted as the necessary accoutrement for all four-legged littles. Only one cat of ours here in WF ever had a flea collar. OliverTwisted could remove a collar of any kind quicker than greased lightning. And he did. Oh well.

 

Washed the other dog bed here in the living room today and changed the cover on the recliner. It is funny to see that Thompson thinks that the dog beds are his, dear hearts. He really likes the two piled on top of each other. Once in a while, Sylvia will get on there with him and lick his ears or play gently with him. Never have seen two dogs this kind and loving to each other. But then just let them get into a quarrel about a toy! Oh boy! They never hurt each other, but they can certainly make the noise!

 

Went out and gathered the eggs to the tune of twelve cackles and clucks. Athena doesn’t say much anymore. Not sure why she has stopped talking to me, but she just stands there and fluffs her feathers up as if she is showing me exactly how it is. Anyway, the hens had left five more eggs in the nests, so will have a dozen probably by tomorrow. Might just have scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast tomorrow. Funny that so many eggs have left this hill, yet hardly any are ever consumed on the premises. Talked to Lance yesterday and discussed raising more hens. It is a lot of work—not even considering the expense. He reminded me that he and Jennifer were quite capable of buying eggs—even if they are not as good as the ones from Dickerson Hill. Will just have to think about it between now and spring. Farm raised eggs are $4.50 a dozen at the feed store on Hwy 281.

 

Do you know that these hens are like little Marines—they dig fox holes all over the place. Looks like the old woman needs to go buy another big bad of diatomaceous earth. That stuff keeps the bugs off their bodies because it kills mites, fleas, and assorted bad bugs. That may be why they have dug so many holes this year—too many bugs out there! You would think the heat would kill the bugs, but maybe not. Just sat here thinking that it would take a truck load of potting soil or something to fill in those holes if the hens ever leave home. Hmm. As it is, poor Caleb will be bumping all over the place on that riding lawn mower.

 

Talked to my friend Barbara today to see how she is doing. She had part of her innards removed to try to get healthy. Not sure it truly succeeded, but she seems to be in a better mood at least. She tried to say that this mess is our age. Nope, not buying that idea. Age has nothing to do with all the crud that happens. We lived our lives as young people and pretty much took care of our families and homes. But our attitudes make a very big difference in how we age and how we feel. Granted, a busted bone has to either be repaired or one gets to go on some of those stupid drugs for the rest of life, but that is not going to be my choice. Best decision ever was going in to get that bone fixed! And you never can tell, getting part of her intestines removed may be just the thing to fix her up. Time will tell. So much of life is a gamble. The surgeon said, “We have to play the cards we’re dealt.” He was right. What is messed up CAN be fixed. Think Roger Thonton would agree with that one. SO glad he came out of that heart surgery in good shape—well, after they got him over the fluids and stuff that accumulated. But his wife takes good care of him, too. He has been very blessed.

 

This ol’ girl is about useless tonight, so will just tell you that it feels as if it is a very good time in our lives to be thankful. God blesses us with everything we need now and in our future. Some of the sadness we see every day will be repaired, replaced, and otherwise conformed to the way God would have it. Let us be happy to know that His will can be trusted.

 

Rest well, my friends. You are loved.

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