Not Phyllis

 

 

Phyllis Penelope Broodston

A fine example of an Old English Bantam hen.

 

She stole my heart a few years ago at the Poultry Auction.

I won a bidding war and paid $30 for her and her six babies.

 

She's been one of my favorites since that day.

Comical as all heck - a brooding machine - persistent - bossy - an excellent mother - and entertaining.

 

Stupid chickens.

They just worm their way into your hearts if you let them - each one unique.

Phyllis with her little pin head was pretty old when I got her - she was pale looking already - a sure sign of age on a hen - and a woman for that matter.

She was no spring chicken.

 

 

She's had a few bouts of troubles - scaly mites on her legs - she lost a few toes to them.

 

 

For the past week - she's been a bit elusive. 

I figured she'd been off broody again - she is more than not.

Glenco found her in the garage just sitting on the floor a few days ago, with a swollen eye.

 

We brought her right in, and she seemed a bit unkempt, so we (I) gave her a bubble bath and a blow dry.

Her appetite was great - I made her oatmeal and scrambled eggs every day.

I had plans of taking her on our trip to the Appalachian Trail - I'm serious.

I was even going to make her a little backpack to keep her treats in.

Perhaps a little hiking hat - I could tell she was looking forward to the road trip.

I had resolved that she would just be a house chicken from here on in.  I had visions of watching Modern Family together while we shared bowls of popcorn. 

 

 

With her appetite as strong as it was - I really didn't think I had a thing to worry about with this gal.

I even took her to the Farmer's Market yesterday - where she enjoyed Honeycrisp apples - and fresh air and sunshine.

 

 

This morning - right after my workout - Phyllis passed away.

Or at least I thought so.

I held her as she took, what I thought, was her last breath.

I laid her back in her cage - and called Glenco.

He was so shocked - as shocked as I was.

 

I went back in the kitchen and found Phyllis standing somewhat with her head completely bent behind her - like she was doing a back bend.

I picked her up again and held her - she was in misery - I could tell.

I knew I had to do something.

I had to Kevorkian her - assist her with her journey to the big Coop in the sky.

 

You know - since I've had chickens - I've done many things I never knew I was capable of doing.

You find the strength you need - when you need it.

 

 

Phyllis really is gone now.

The yard won't be the same.

Stinkin' bird.

 

Phyllis taught me a lot in her life and in her death - seems silly doesn't it?

I'm always looking for life lessons in the little things.

 

Phyllis never gave up on her dreams of hatching birds out.

She would sit on unfertilized eggs for weeks on end.

Just when I finally got her a suitor - she up and dies.

She never got to see the Appalachian Trail.

I'm not sure my friends would appreciate me bringing her now.  : -)

 

Let's all learn from Phyllis to never give up - make your dreams come true - life is so danged short - get out there and live it!

 

Today we will cook Paula Deen's Beef Stew for dinner - in Phyllis' honor -

we shall eat no chicken today.

 

Popping In.....

 

Guess what?

I missed you guys.

A month is a long time!

 

Just wanted to say a couple of things....

 

Aaron got his license

 

 

 

He got his license the same day he found out he could start school in December.

It was also the same day I made a doctors appointment for some meds.

: -)

 

 

Phyllis is ailing again and in the house recovering.

She's got a bit of an eye infection and just seems under the weather in general.

I gave her a good bubble bath and a blow dry last night - made her some oatmeal which she ate up like a boss.

I plan on sneaking her in my backpack to the Appalachian Trail.

 

 

 

Hope you are drinking in the goodness of the autumn season!

 

 

 

An Autumn Farewell

 

I'm not entirely sure how to convey how much I'm loving autumn this year - and this is only the second official day!

 

I've been bedecking the porches - stocking up on apples - and enjoying the changing slant of the light in the house as the days progressively get shorter.

 

It's the 360 degree circle of life baby - and I'm drinking every degree of it up.

 

So much going on at the moment - and honestly - I shan't have the time to blog for the next month.  I will be gone three out of four of the weeks in October -

 

Several of those days will be spent on the Appalachian Trail in North Carolina with some dear friends - a couple more of those weeks in Missouri with family - and then a few days with the legendary Janie Fox. 

 

My soul needs this time.

 

In between all of that I'm throwing what I hope to be a fabulous Graduation Party for Aaron.

 

Wishing you all crisp leaves, sweater weather, hot cider and pumpkins.

 

Catch ya in November!

 

 

My Feel Good Arsenal

 

I'm gonna spill some secrets here today.

 

I feel ridiculous.

I wake up ready to run a marathon most mornings.

 

I'm obnoxiously happy.

 

I have more energy than a two year old, and that's a true story.

 

 

I think this is the reason.

 

Real, unprocessed, whole food.

Lots of water.

B 12 levels finally getting right.

Liquid vitamins.

Exercise.

 

I've always been the kind of person that likes to be busy from sun up to sun down.

Always been naturally optimistic and happy.

I've always had pretty good energy.

Maybe it was more determination than energy - I'm not sure.

 

A couple of months ago - when I had some blood work done and found out that I had seriously low levels of B12 - I started getting weekly shots, and taking sub lingual B12.

 

Yowza.

 

It took a good month for me to be able to tell a difference in my energy levels, but my legs quit tingling pretty much right away.

 

The symptoms of low B 12 are many - from fatigue to mental confusion, no moons in your fingernails...it's really so much to list here...I really implore you to Google it and read up about it - please don't suffer like I did out of ignorance!

 

Methylcobalamin is the best source of B12 and that is what I take orally.  Most B12 supplements are Cobalamin - which your body has to convert to the methylcobalamin before it's used. I order it from Amazon where I get it shipped free when I buy at least two - I take about four a day right now, so I'm going through them quickly....

 

 

Since I have a wheat sensitivity that went unchecked for many years - my intestines do not absorb B12 from my food - I had the thought - "well then what about the multivitamin that I take everyday?"  I bought some liquid vitamins at the suggestion of my doctor - and I love these.

I had to man up to swallow it the first time - it's a thick green liquid.  I showed it to Glenco and he said it looked like pigeon droppings - which really didn't help at all.  I think of that EVERY time I take them now - but wow - I can tell a difference taking this.

 

I've started giving myself the weekly shots of B12.  It's cheaper, and the compounding pharmacy in town had the methylcobalamin that I wanted, and my doctor was injecting me with the cobalamin.  I hope to be able to go to monthly shots soon.

 

 

Exercise - I can't get over how it gives me energy.

You truly reap what you sow -

Sow energy - reap energy.

 

 

I find a direct correlation to what I eat and how I feel.

The littlest bit of processed food leaves me with a headache and a bit of a sluggish feel.

So not worth it.

 

Life is too short to feel anything less than fabulous!

 

Things That Make Me Ache from Happiness - Exhibit A

 

 

Ironing.

 

 

I adore ironing.

I'm always ironing for someone I love - and that makes me so happy I ache.

 

I love the sound and smell of the steam.

I love starch.

I love taking messy things and making them neat.

I love folding warm pillowcases and hanging warm shirts.

I love taking care of people I love.

 

My mom was a world class ironer. The ironing board was never put away - she ironed everything - pillowcases, pajamas, dishclothes, even our bras.

True story.

 

Maybe that's why I love it so - it reminds me of her.

I'm the proud owner of that ironing board.  Every time I take it out and it squeaks when I open it - I'm a kid again - standing at that ironing board on a cold Chicago morning as my mom would iron my shirt right before I put it on - so it would be warm.

 

I'd eat my oatmeal as my socks warmed in the oven.

 

I so want to nurture my family like that - it's the little things y'all.

The little things.

 

 

 

Today when I was ironing, I looked down and saw my mother's hands.

The ropey veins, the long skinny fingers.

My hands definitely show the years of work I've put around this old farm house - and I wear them like badges of honor.

 

The spirit of a homemaker is in every woman - I truly believe it.

Apron that thing up and wear it with pride.

 

 

The Meat Bird Debacle of 2012

Phyllis finally got herself a man.

Isn't he a beauty?

 

He's supposed to be a banty, but he's almost mid size - smaller than the big birds, bigger than the banties.  I haven't done any Googling to find out about this guy - I just know I love him - and it makes me happy to see my banty hens in the company of a gentleman.  And he is a gentleman.

I like that in a rooster.

 

He isn't named yet -

 

Remember Clarence?  Well - he went to the sale barn y'all - that bird was mean as a snake.

 

There's so much I haven't told you.

Remember the whole meat bird thing?

 

Golly - this could take a while to explain.

 

OK - the Cornish Cross chicken - the one we all grill, fry, roast and eat everyday - well - it's a hybrid bird bred to be market ready in six weeks.  In fact - if they aren't butchered in six weeks - well - they start to drop dead from heart attacks, they can't walk because their legs can't support them - all sorts of awfulness.

 

I was going to post a picture here on the blog - but many of you read this first thing in the morning, and I just didn't want to ruin your day.  I'm sure you can find a photo online if you are curious.

 

I didn't want that - I wanted to raise meat the way our grandparents would have raised meat.

I think what they did was just cull out the old birds - well - that's not happenin' here - so I have to raise them from babies for the sole purpose of meat.

 

That's what I did.

I went to ye olde feed store this Spring and picked up 18 straight run (a straight run is unsexed birds - meaning - they haven't sexed the birds knowing which are hens or which are roosters) mixed breed birds.

 

 

 

I did not name these birds, I did not 'watch' these birds.  I fed and watered them.

They were spectacular birds - gorgeous, proud, cocky, strong -

I found myself calling them "baby" and "honey" when I would go out to feed them -

"Here you go baby...."

Then I'd scold myself - "no, no!  They are not baby and honey!  They are dinner!"

 

Every time I went to the feed store to get my feed, the guy there asked me how they were doing, and kept telling me how I should have got the Cornish Cross.

 

Then I would explain to him how I wanted a more natural 'heritage' chicken - and he would say - "you eat seedless watermelons, don't you?  They are hybrid!"

Well played Feed Store Man, well played.

 

I kept hoping that a few of these would be hens, and I would keep them - but don't ya know that every ding danged one of these were roosters.

 

To say that my yard was noisy was an understatement.

For those of you that don't know - roosters crow ALL THE TIME.  It's not just a time or two in the morning - oh no, they crow all the live long day, and well up til dark - so imagine 18 of them up in your yard.  I'm surprised the neighbors didn't complain.

 

Then - the fighting started - for about a week it was madness - all I did was break up cock fights, which was futile - because they started up again as soon as I broke them up.

 

I would check the birds for weight every week - they were beautiful - feathered out - large - but there was no meat on the danged things! 

 

I made a decision to take all but two to the sale barn and sell them - I didn't think that they would be worth the money to butcher them - and they were getting really expensive to feed - seriously - I think I had like $20 into each bird at this point!

 

 

Glenco cobbled up some cages and off Aaron and I went to the sale barn.

Lord have mercy on my soul did it smell on the way there - we had the window open and we were hanging out of them - 'breathe out of your mouth!' I kept saying...

Mercy.

 

I got $8 for each rooster, and I learned a lot through the process - so, although I still consider it a failed experiment, it wasn't an epic fail.

 

The two that were left?  Well, they were the meanest ones...the ones that stirred up all the trouble - the ones that came out of the roost box ready to rumble.

 

 

 

Truthfully, it kind of freaked me out - I wasn't sure I could deal with this - I mean - I saw these birds, I looked into their eyes, I saw their poop.

The way these birds screamed when I caught them to take to the butcher - I shan't forget anytime soon.

Rather haunting.

 

I knew if I didn't cook them, Glenco would - well, let's say this in a way that doesn't make him sound mean, cause he's not - he'd flip out.

 

 

There really wasn't much meat on the bird at all - the legs were pretty meaty, but just a few bites of breast meat.

I made chicken noodle soup and pulled mine out before the noodles were added.

 

I manned up and put a bite of the bird in my mouth - I couldn't swallow it - I massaged my throat and finally it went down.

 

It was utterly delicious.  Moist, tender - very flavorful.  It made the nicest stock I'd ever seen.

 

Will I do this again?

I think so - I will raise Freedom Rangers next year - they are a hybrid - but they aren't as 'Frankenchicken' as the Cornish Cross.

 

Of course I then had the bright idea of fencing off the entire back two acres, getting two hundred Freedom Rangers and going into the free range, organic chicken farming business.

 

: -)

 

Wonder if the neighbors would mind 200 crowing roosters?

 

I just love my all or nothing personality.

 

With Flying Colors

 

back in 2009 when we first started homeschooling....

 

Ladies and Gentlemen ....

 

drum roll please....

 

He did it.

 

The BoyChild passed the GED with flying colors!

 

He did extra great in Science and Reading.

 

from www.paperfashion.net

We were busy decluttering his room upstairs (I'm forcing everyone to declutter!) - and I had to come downstairs for a potty break - there on the kitchen island lay the mail....

 

There it was.

A 9x13 envelope with Aaron's name on it.

My heart started pounding.

I ran upstairs with it.

 

Aaron and I sat on the edge of the bed just staring at it -

I felt his heart - it was jumping out of his chest.

He opened it - we looked -

 

Meets or exceeds Math

Meets or exceeds Language Arts

Meets or exceeds Reading

Meets or exceeds Social Studies

Meets or exceeds Science

 

Bam.

There's his diploma.

We were both speechless.

We hugged so hard.

We ran down to tell Glenco.

We called his mom.

We texted people.

We Facebooked.

 

Happy day!!

 

We've since been to Chicago to start the enrollment process for Paul Mitchell.

He should be starting the January session - he has to wait until he's 17 - and he'll be 17 in December.

This week he starts looking for a job in earnest.

This Friday he takes his driver's test.

 

All so quick.

 

seems like yesterday we were planting a garden together....

 

Last week I was decluttering the office (two large bags removed!) - I was cleaning out the desk drawer and I found all of Aaron's pencils.  Many of them never used (I had a little pencil fetish for a while - bought pencils for every holiday, etc.)  Some of them were worn down to the nub with a replacement eraser on them - I thought of how often Aaron struggled with math and would erase so many answers, so frustrated, so defeated.

 

I just kept smelling those pencils.  I sharpened them all and put them back in the drawer.  Relics of a day gone by - memories of sitting on the couch - drinking lattes together reading, laughing and learning. 

 

We both learned so very much.

 

The biggest lesson I learned homeschooling was to calm the heck down.

 

Children learn so much more in a relaxed environment of nurturing and love than they do in a strict environment of starting school on time everyday and pressure of understanding everything.

 

 

To say I'm proud of Aaron is such an understatement.

I'm so proud of the man he's becoming.

I'm so impressed with his manners, his sense of humor, his kind heart.

I'm so impressed with his ambition and hard work to get on with his life at such a young age.

 

I'm going to be sucking the marrow out of these few, precious short months that he'll be here with me more often than not.

Come January he'll be gone - off to Chicago - having new experiences, meeting new people, learning - growing and fulfilling his destiny.

 

 

Aaron posted this on his Facebook page - I love it.

Rock on Aaron - I'm so blessed you are a part of my life.

 

Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in square holes.

The ones who think differently.

They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo.
You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify them or vilify them.
About the only thing you can't do is ignore them.

Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward.

Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you look at an empty canvas and see a work of art?
Or sit in silence and hear a song that's never been written? Or gaze at red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?

We make tools for these kinds of people. While some see them as the crazy ones, I see genius.
Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.

THINK DIFFERENT.

 

 

Anonymously Yours

 

 

I'm not sure how to start this post.

Gracious.

 

Thank you all for coming to my defense - it meant so very much to me.

 

The anonymous comment:

 

You! Judging someone for weight! That has to be the most sickening

 self righteous thing I have ever heard.

 

This broke my heart up in a million pieces.  I really wasn't prepared for it - I had just sat down at the computer for the first time on Friday morning, had my tea - and was pretty much punched in the stomach when I read it.  In all the time I've blogged, everyone has been really nice.

Thank you.

 

I'm not saying that the person that wrote that comment isn't nice - she or he is just stating what they think and believe, and I won't fault them for that.

I wasn't going to delete the comment just to make things 'all nice' here - that's not being authentic.

I thought about making it impossible to leave anonymous comments here - but I don't want anyone that doesn't know how to set up an account to feel left out and not be able to comment.

 

I can say that I cried on and off  about three times over it.

Cried when I mopped the floor, cried when I vacuumed, and cried when I got comments defending me.

I felt sickish to my stomach most of the day.

I really wish I didn't let things like this bother me - but I do.

 

 

My first thought was to go to Dairy Queen.

My second thought was to write a blog right away defending myself.

Explaining myself.

 

I don't think innocent people need to defend, or explain themselves.  I did nothing wrong - just shared a raw thought, and we all have those.  Why I share so much, I have no idea!  I wish I could just share decorating ideas and recipes and be done with it - but life is about so much more than all of that - and I feel the need to talk about it.

 

Hopefully - you feel the need to read about it.

:-)

 

 

For those of you that really do know me, or can get a real sense of what I truly am like by reading my blog - you know that I'm not being all high and mighty since I lost weight.  On the contrary - I have this sense of humility and wonderment over the whole thing - I feel like I've survived the Holocaust or something, and I think 'how did I survive?  How did I escape?' 

I'm seriously humbled by the whole experience.

 

Would the lady at the school get around easier if she lost weight?  Yes.  True statement.

The fact that I assumed it was her weight causing her to limp was what bothered me about myself - it's like assuming someone that falls asleep in church doesn't love God as much as I do - when perhaps they've been up all night on a bedside vigil of a sick child.

 

Do you see what I'm getting at?

Did I just defend and explain m'self?

: -)

 

Good things have come from this though - I feel like my skin has thickened a little - and it needs to - I felt incredibly loved by so many people - I got texts, emails and awesome comments.

To anonymous - if you are reading this - I just want to thank you for speaking your mind - I want to thank you for reading my blog - I'd love to give you a big hug.

 

Now let's lighten up around here.

 

 

 

My Judgement is Cluttered

 

I had to giggle at how many of you mentioned you had old Mary Kay Satin Hands.

Loved the stuff, but how many of us are going to go through all those steps?

I would if my hands were not going into water about 4,283 times a day.

Ma Kettle Burlap Hands.

That's what I've got.

 

Wow.

55 comments so far on "I'm Stufficating"

I think I hit a hot topic.

 

I only had about ten minutes to work on my declutter project today, but in that short time - this is what I pulled out of the office/sewing room/pantry/everything room.

 

 

 

If one of my local friends sees something that they gave me here - I apologize.

You know me well enough understand.

I hope.

 

Four empty glass bottles

Two tablecloths

Large blood pressure cuff

Ear piece for telephone (never used)

Trackball mouse

Cellphone case (it's Aaron's - I hope to God he isn't reading this)

Pillow

Two bottles of wine (We don't drink anymore)

Three books behind the pillow

Asst. Cookie Cutters

Wooden Painted Box

DVDs

CDs

Recipe Booklets

 

I should add the total of this up together and see what it comes to, I bet it's a few hundred bucks.

It all went to a good home.

I toyed around with the idea of having a yard sale.

I started freaking out a little over the money that was spent on all of this stuff that I was now basically 'throwing away'. 

I thought - wait - let me pile all of this on the front porch, start pricing it - and....

and then I realized that I would doubtfully have it this fall, and then it would sit there all winter taunting me - and then I would work my fool head off for the sale and make a couple of hundred dollars if I were lucky.

 

It didn't seem worth it to me.

I want it gone now.

 

I wanted to talk about the cookie cutters for a sec.

Let me preface by saying that the few times that I've watched 'Hoarders' - I usually gasp in disbelief, and I think 'oh man, I just don't get it - how could ANYONE live like THAT!?'

 

Today, when I pulled the cookie cutters out - I had SUCH an emotional attachment to them.

I actually had a bit of a pain in my stomach - and it dawned on me - "So this is what THEY feel like when asked to throw away a broken hanger?"

 

I still don't really understand it.

But I get it now - I can sympathize.

 

If you are wondering WHY I got rid of the cookie cutters - I'll tell ya.  I just don't bake anymore - well, hardly ever - and if I do - it's gluten free, and semi-healthy.  I don't see myself making rolled sugar cookies for every Holiday anymore - just Christmas.  I just saved a few back.  I still struggle at times with the whole baking/cooking thing being my very identity.

Truth is, I just really don't want to feed my family and the people I love all of that unhealthy food anymore.

 

 

 

One of the questions recently that my therapist asked me -

"You seem to judge yourself so harshly - do you judge others as harshly?"

 

My first reaction was 'oh goodness no - I'm seriously like the nicest, most tolerant, understanding person in the Universe'.

 

She just asked me to watch for judgemental thoughts towards others.

So I did.

 

In the course of 24 hours, I felt that I judged people three separate times, quite harshly.

 

While Aaron was testing for his GED, I sat and waited in the school hallway.  There was a woman there preparing for a big school Open House the next day - and she was running around like a headless chicken - and she seemed to be in pain, and have a hard time walking.  She was quite overweight.  I offered to help her - and ended up folding some brochures and ironing tablecloths while I waited on Aaron.  See, I am nice.

 

I had thoughts like this - 'well, girl - if you'd get some of that weight off, you could probably get around much better.'  At the end of the night, she told me she'd had a double knee replacement 8 weeks ago.  All of the sudden, I thought she was getting around famously.

 

I'm not really sure how this all ties in with the decluttering - but I noticed in many of your comments, you seemed to be upset with yourself, or shaming yourselves for your mess.  Do you feel judged for your mess?

 

Don't do that.

It's not helping anything.

Be kind to yourself.

 

Let's pare down and spruce up!

I'm Stufficating

It's been a couple of years ago now that I started my life transformation.

Many of you have been with me through the whole blasted thing.

It really wasn't a conscious 'I'm starting Monday' type of a transformation - it was more of a 'this ain't working for me anymore' kinda thing.

I started with the house.

Clutter.

Stuff.

Too many hobbies.

Overly decorated.

I was stufficating.

I gave the whole place a clean sweep. After I finished the house - I worked on my body - decluttering that - then my mind - decluttering that.

It's been an incredibly journey of priorities changing, shining light into mental blind spots, realizing that less is truly more and learning that a bank account full of happiness and peace is more satisfying to me than money.

Guess what?

It's time for Phase 2.

I still feel like I'm stufficating.

I still have too much 'stuff', and yet I have less than most people I know - but it still seems like too much.

I'm determined to die with next to nothing...ha!  I don't want to be one of those old ladies that passes away and the family has to come in with a dumpster and deal with all of my stuff.

This time - I'm being brutal.  Nothing is safe.  Yesterday, I opened my Tupperware cabinet and it all tumbled down on me.  Girls - no one needs 38 plastic containers.

No one.

They shall disappear very soon.

The garden is over stuffed, I've been digging things out and simplifying it.

Thanks to thrift stores and yard sales, I have way too many clothes.  I bought things that I liked but didn't love, just because they were in good condition and cheap - it's still a waste of money if you don't wear them.

It's a little (a lot) overwhelming to think of where to start, isn't it?

I started in the bathroom yesterday - cause I knew I could just finish it up quick and it would feel like I finished something.

I ended up with a garbage can full of old products, expired antibiotics and allergy meds and my extra large blood pressure cuff that I no longer need since I've lost weight.

When I realized all the money spent on lotions and tinctures that I never ended up fully using, it frustrated me so much!  I had some Mary Kay Satin Hand stuff that was at least 7 years old.  Two years ago when I did my decluttering I vowed to use it - and I never did.

It actually felt really good to just throw it away.

My ultimate dream - although I know Glenco would never go for it : -)

I've decided that Pinterest, magazines and other blogs are pornography for housewives.  I think at times, if we aren't careful - it truly promotes 'more is better' and we will constantly feel that we are less than because we don't have everything we need to set an elaborate table setting for every season and holiday.  It takes a LOT of stuff to do that. 

Am I the only one that lived for years in a state of discontent whilst reading Martha Stewart magazines?

Am I the only one that was a raging lunatic that my family didn't want to be around on Thanksgiving because I was trying to make everything 'perfect'?

Oftentimes, I think we focus on our homes being perfectly decorated at the expense of our hearts and relationships being cluttered, or bare and poorly 'decorated'.

A tidy home filled with love and laughter is the coziest of all, if you ask me.

I'm determined to only keep those things that I find useful, necessary and beautiful.  

I want to find the balance of being deliberately simple, yet cozy and warm.

Who's with me?

What are you gonna get rid of today?

She Lives....

 

I'm alive!

I'm here, I'm here.

 

 

 

In a very quiet mood lately - and there ain't nothing wrong with that.

We've been quite busy - here and there.

 

Found out that my B12 levels were rock bottom.  My legs had been going numb on me and I was getting severe Charlie horses in my calves.  I've been getting B12 shots weekly for a month, and now just a got a prescription to give them to myself.  *gulp*.  It's funny - fatigue is a big symptom of low B12 - and it's funny - cause I didn't feel tired until I found I had low B12.  I know.  It's psychosomatic or something, eh?  I'm thinking that I never allowed myself to feel tired - I just kept pushing.

I'm tired y'all.

I can tell the B12 shots are helping....and I'm taking like 5mg sublingually as well.

 

Aaron did take the GED, and feels confident in the outcome.

We have to wait a few weeks for the results.

He's vacationing now in the Smokies with his parents.

I will never get tired of saying 'parents'.

So glad my sister found someone to share her life with.

 

 

 

We've gone camping a time or two -

In the process of finding a place for Aaron to live while schooling in Chicago - trying to work out the financial end of school as well - grants, scholarships, financial aid.

I'm a fish out of water here girls.

 

I don't feel like I have anything important to say - so I'll say no more -

not that it's every stopped me before.

: -)

 

Life is good.

 

Romancing the Coop

It dawned on me for the 694th time, that I romanticize life way too much.

Meet Clarence.

Some of you know that I'm raising birds for meat this summer - well, I'm trying to.

It's a long story, but rest assured that I shan't be posting pictures of headless birds and sharing gory details.

I decided early on that I would choose one bird to grant pardon to.  There was an Araucana rooster that was an early favorite.  Beautiful bird.  Too pretty to eat I thought.

Then this nut bird keeps getting picked on - almost to the point of death, and the soft spot in my heart knew he was my bird.

I had romantic visions of a pet rooster, hanging out with me on the swing whilst I embroidered dishtowels in my apron - a cool summer breeze blowing through the yard - my fat furry black cat Mocha at my feet. 

Clarence would be preening, Mocha would be purring, I would be stitching, my perfectly manicured perennial garden basking in the summer sunshine - and I'm sure there would be some perfectly brewed iced tea in a lovely vintage glass somewhere nearby, gathering condensation from the humid summer weather.

Reality check.

Yesterday, when I gave Clarence clemency, the fool bird was so shocked and happy to be out of harms way that he DID seem to want to hang out with me, and let me pick him up readily, and stroke his glossy neck feathers and play with his flaps and in general, give him some lovin'.

An hour later - he would attack me any time I got near him - relentlessly biting my hands, trying to pull chunks of flesh off.   It was open season on my calves, and I've got the bruises to prove it.  The cat wasn't safe either - Clarence chased both cats around the yard, fur and feathers flying.

My sun scorched perennials were fair game as well - nice big holes where there were some flowers.

Call me stubborn or stupid, I'm determined to have my bucolic view of life left intact.

In honor of my fantasy world - let's share some Instagram photos.

There's nothing like Instagram to fancy up a picture of a sandwich, a cup of coffee, or even a chicken dropping, I'm sure.  Let's compare fantasy and reality for a moment.

I got my new bifocals.  I love them.  Super cute.  You can't even see the sides here, and they are super cuter.  Don't I look cute here?  Notice the offset head - adds such an artsy touch?

Reality - I just paid $308 for these glasses and that was after insurance.  One minute after I snapped this picture, I recieved a frantic phone call from my sister and Aaron.  If I didn't get the the DMV and straighten out some paperwork for Aaron's driving permit - I think there would have been bloodshed.

It doesn't get much sweeter and cuter than this, does it?  A kitten on a quilt.  I mean COME ON.

Reality - this kitten should be named Damien, not Jax.  He's destroying that quilt with his claws.  The only time I can get a photo of him is when he is sound asleep, otherwise he is a blur.  I'm anxious to neuter him to see if it calms him down.  The house is in shambles from his shenanigans.

For all my friends that love that old fashioned, peeling paint look, like I do - you'll love these two pictures.

My front door.

We never do use the front door - so I've decided to let the Virginia Creeper and Morning Glories have it.  It's incredibly romantic isn't it?  Doesn't it just make your stomach ache you love it so?

Yep.  Until it's actually on YOUR house, and then you feel like a complete slacker that hasn't painted your house in years.

Sunflowers and zinnias frolicking happily along my driveway.

Don't hate.  Isn't it fabulous?

It is.

Reality.  It was all supposed to be zinnias - just like last year.  But, I, the Master Gardener - planted the spot halfway full of sunflowers before I realized they were sunflower seeds and not zinnia seeds.

Lord knows I know the difference, in fact, I'm sure you could blindfold me and I could tell by feel alone.  So, when "I" see this lovely sight, I worry about early dementia.

Enjoy.

 

This is just a picture of a rebel sunflower.  It refuses to look at the sun.  Cracks me flat up.

My first pair of size 6 pants were purchased this week.

I'm over the moon with joy of course.

Had my first friend seriously worried that I was becoming anorexic.

The reality of these size sixes is that I've worked incredibly hard and put in most of my life looking like this -

I deserve those size sixes, ya think?

 

Isn't this cute?  Me eating ribs.  You might be thinking 'wow, she has so much fun - she takes rides in the country to BBQ stands and eats fun things and enjoys life so much'.  You'd be right - but - reality - I went to bed with a killer stomach ache.  There was something in that rub mix that ailed me - I'm thinking it was the yeast extract.

Aaron and I picked 48lbs of tomatoes off of my plants.  I have 8 tomato plants that are going gangbusters.  Isn't that awesome?

Reality - I did not expect to spend my entire day yesterday processing tomatoes - but that's what happens on Monday's in August when you go out to the garden - what you also don't know is how I've been nagged to water said tomato plants by Glenco.  You also don't know how many tomatoes the banty hens have eaten before I got to them - probably this many.

Isn't this a cool picture of beeswax?  I love it.  Smells so good too.  I keep bees.  Yes, I am very cool.

Romantic visions of me in my bee suit - smoker smoldering - bees quietly buzzing about thanking me for planting all these awesome flowers - ya, that's what I thought too.

Reality?

By the time I harvest the honey, I'm stung, suffering from heat exhaustion and usually decide that I don't like honey that much after all.

(speaking of honey - for those of you that have emailed me that you want some - I'm planning on shipping this week - and there was SOMEONE that wanted some - needed it for medicinal purposes, and I'll be darned if I haven't deleted your email somehow - please email again!)

Reality aside - I like living in my fantasy world - where my kitty is beyond adorable, my chickens adore me, the garden blesses me with it's bounty and I pretend that all the peeling paint on the house is exactly what I intended.