Trying to Be Positive.

 Trying To Be Positive.

 

So, the three little chicks and momma hen are now inside the big coop where the flat heater is keeping them warm. They have food and water and straw. May have to remove some of the straw to give them more room, but not right this red hot minute. The old woman does not feel too great. Not sure just what the problem is, but at least the headache is gone.

 

Jerry Jones—no, not the owner of the Cowboys—came by today and brought me egg cartons galore. He got what few eggs that had been gathered today. He says he has kidney and liver cancer, so all prayers are appreciated. That is a horrible way to go. But at least he knows WHERE he is going. He came by here shortly after Hanan died to tell me that the kid was not going to hell for committing suicide. He was afraid that might be on my mind. It wasn’t. But the PTSD was triggered just standing there talking to him. Doesn’t take much. What really sucks is that it will never completely go away as long as two brain cells bump around in there. Such is life.

 

Had turnips for breakfast. Did not want leftover spaghetti squash with meatballs. May give the rest of that to the hens tomorrow. Still have chicken to use up. And meatballs that just need to be heated. Just did not want what was here and went to Whataburger for a burger, onion rings, and a milkshake. Spoiled rotten and even took my dogs with me. They ate most of the bread around the burger and never even complained about the mustard.

 

Not too terribly happy about the weather forecast. Lesli told me this morning that it is snowing in Chicago. Told her to keep that crud up there, but she said it is just snowing lightly. Argh. She has been sending me funnies—text messages. She said when she retires, she will have a house beside a lake. Picture of a guy in a mudhole with toy houses around him. Told her our lake is about kaput, but she did point out that we can still live in the house even if the lake has gone south.

 

Some days my bed looks as if a child made it. This morning it might have had a sergeant standing over it ready to bounce his quarter. Not sure how that happened. It did look neat, however. Then this afternoon, pulled off my work clothes and crawled in for a short nap. Yep, just as comfortable as anything—neat or otherwise.

 

Don’t know diddly squat and don’t feel like lollygagging around anymore today. May read some and then go to bed when the hens are ready to roost. Let’s pray for peace. God’s justice will come someday. Let us look to Him for our daily grace.

 

Rest well, my friends. You are loved.