Tylenol Baby

Went to bed last night with a headache, and woke up with the new, improved version!! Almost migraine, not quite. So, after I nibbled a bit of breakfast, two Tylenol were in order. Almost migraine is gone people. I heart Tylenol.

Also, having eaten two very large holiday meals two days in a row, I'm so looking forward to my small turkey sandwich for lunch today. I don't think I'll be doing much cooking for the next few days. Hell, breathing was a problem last night!

All Will Be Well

Positive thinking is not making things easier, or better. Some days it's been a struggle to come up with one positive thing. I had a huge meltdown last weekend, and while I needed it, crying for two days is not fun people. My nose rivaled Rudolph.

But I am determined to keep my head down and get through this patch of life. I have a husband who would walk over glass, through volcanoes, whatever it takes to be with me. I feel the same about him. I have a healthy daughter who, while making some choices that leave me banging my head against the wall, is making her own way through life, and I am proud of her for that. I have a safe, warm home that I share with the aforementioned husband, and some critters who are good for some laughs, and if all else fails, very good for snuggling with when meltdowns occur.

I have food in the pantry, chocolate covered peanut butter balls in the freezer (sweet mercy, I love my mother-in-law), yarn and fabric in the sewing studio. Family and friends all over the country who love me. And I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they all love me.

So I'm gritting my teeth, marching forward, looking for at least one positive thing a day. And my mantra for 2010 will be "All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things will be well." It's a lovely quote, and I have no idea who said it, but they are my positive thing for today.

If you are reading this? I love you. Just the way you are. Thanks for being part of my life. The good part!

Ho Ho Ho Dammit

Life has been - well kinda tough lately. Money is in very short supply, and it looks like Christmas will be a skimpy affair at my house this year. Now, I'm not looking for sympathy here. Lots of people are in much worse shape than my family. Much worse. I just need to get some things off my chest so I can get on with my New Year resolutions. Yes, New Year resolutions, before Christmas. I'm trying out a new approach here people.

Bitching, moaning, and whining about the lack of money does not, for some crazy reason, make more of it appear. I know, you'd think it would just be rolling in, huh? So, I decided this morning to try a different approach. I'm going to start picking one thing to be thankful for everyday. Through gritted teeth if necessary. Life isn't getting any better with whining, it's only getting more depressing.

So for 2010, I'm going to spend each day being thankful for something. It's going to be hard at first, because whining is much easier. But I hope by the end of the year, thankfulness will come easily to me, and life will be a little better. Something has to change, cuz the way I'm doing it now is not working!!

Kaboom

Okay, so posting everyday for the rest of November went to hell fast, now didn't it? Go figure.

It's only Wednesday, and it's been a hell of a week. My Uncle Paul is very ill, very very ill. The doctors won't commit to wether he will recover or not, and it's scary as hell. Everyone in the family is praying. My mom says we have most of the North American continent covered. I only hope it's enough. Losing him just two months after my Grandma Betty would be to cruel.

And now Brad has laid a huge bombshell on me. Work in Idaho is good, and looking to get better. If it does get as good as things indicate, Brad wants to talk about both of us moving there temporarily. Renting the house out to Sara and her boyfriend. My first reaction? No, I can't leave my home, my chickens, my sewing room, my job that I love. Second reaction? I miss my husband terribly. And he misses me. He was out of town when Mason died, when my Grandma Betty died, and now while Uncle Paul is so very sick. I would love to have his strong shoulder to physically lean on while I worry. That shoulder is always there whenever I need it, for whatever I need it for, but I certainly miss having his arms around me. And it works on him that he can't be here for me in person.

So, that's my dilemma for the day. I am so grateful that the problem is too much work, and not the opposite. But whichever way things end up going, it's going to be very difficult. Sigh.

Crap, I joined Facebook. Thanks alot Dani.

Bad day/Good day

Hmm, I think I forgot I had a blog for a looonnngg time. Let's see if I can post every day in November, shall we?

Life is life. Good days, bad days, days I wish I didn't have to get out of bed. Today has been a bad/good day. Started out bad, got better. First thing this morning I get a phone call from my cousin Todd. Todd is in a bad situation that he really has no one but himself to blame for, but he isn't ready or willing to realize that yet. Alcohol and drugs are deadly to my family members. Todd hasn't hit bottom yet, and he may never do so. He was in a good rehab program, but he left it because it focused on behaviour modification, and according to him, he doesn't need that. I think he thought he could call me, and I would not know what was going on, and "help" him. I won't. My heart hurts for him, but I can't give him money, or a place to stay, or a job. He says he's sober, living on the streets, etc, etc. Who knows the reality? I wish I could wave a magic wand and fix him, but all I can do is fix the problems in my own life. And I'm so grateful that drugs and alcohol are not problems I have to deal with.

Work is good. I had two people out for two months, and I was working six days a week. Not a recipe for fun. Added to the fact that Brad is out of town all week now, lets just say Kathy was one tired girl.

The good part of today was that I got to talk to my Aunt Linda and my counsin Dani. Todd was the impetous for those phone calls, but these are two women I need to keep in closer contact with. Dani wants me to join Facebook, but I think I really need to get better at posting here and playing with Ravelry (online knitting mecca) before I add another internet thingie I join and don't participate in.

I want to use my time better, and finish projects, keep in touch with friends and loved ones, and not feel so alone. It is very lonely here with only the dogs and the cat for company at night. I am so grateful Brad is working, and we are going to be able to catch up all our bills, make improvements to the property, and lose some of our panic over money. But the price we are paying is steep. I am alone at home, and Brad is alone away from home. We are both homebodies, and love our quiet time with each other. There isn't much of that anymore. We just keep reminding ourselves that this won't last forever, and we have a goal, there is a purpose for this sacrifice. And our time together is so much sweeter. We focus more on each other and our relationship.

This post is rambling, but that's the way my brain is working today. I'm posting though, so that's the important thing.

Stick a fork in me, I'm done

It's official, I've gone right over the edge, jumped the tracks, lost my marbles, and am ready for the men in the white coats.

Yesterday, my favorite chicken, Henrietta, disappeared. I was devastated. I bawled like a baby. And then, two hours later, Henrietta reappeared. I have no idea where she was, or what deviltry she was up to. I was so happy, I tried to hug her. For the record, chickens, (at least Henrietta) do no like to to hugged. I have the scratches to prove it.

Yep, I'm crying over chickens and trying to hug them. Someone call the looney bin, and get my room ready.

Hurt

It has been a brutal time for my family. I've been wanting to blog about it for some time, but haven't had the strength. All of my energy has been taken by trying to hold others up, and keep myself afloat as well. The blows have been swift and devastating. While we are not out of the woods yet, hopefully we've found a clearing we can shelter in before forging onward.

Death has been an ever present shadow for about six weeks now. One nephew's best friend commited suicide, and my nephew was the one to find him. I can't imagine how aweful that must have been for him. Next my daughter's boyfriend's uncle passed suddenly. He'd been ill for sometime, fighting alcoholism and other problems, but one is never prepared for loss.

The next blow was the most devastating. My oldest nephew's son, two year old Mason, died. Mason had been born premature, with Cerebal Palsy, bleeding in his brain. He suffered from seizures, had physical and mental developmental challenges, but the biggest, best smile you've ever seen in your life. It has sent the entire family to their collective knees. I can't even begin to describe the torment my extended family has been through. For my immediate family, it has been hard enough. We all know Mason is in a much better place, that he is walking, and laughing, and doing cartwheels. But we hurt. The worst part for me was walking into his service, and seeing the quilt I made for him when he was born lovingly displayed on the altar underneath his cremains. I don't think about those quilts much after I make them. I didn't ever want to think about one being used in a child's funeral service. I'm not sure my heart will ever recover from that sight.

And then, three weeks to the day later, my maternal grandmother and the paternal grandmother of my sister-in-law, Mason's grandmother, both passed the same day. And I could not go back to Kansas for my grandmother's service. I did get to speak to her one last time, to tell her how much I loved her, and how much I appreciated everything she's done for me. But I couldn't be there with the rest of my family, going through pictures, telling stories, laughing and crying together. I couldn't be there to see my grandmother in the hospital, covered in the quilt I made for her several years ago. It hurts. I don't have the words for how badly it hurts.

I want to go into my room and quilt. I need to finish a baby quilt for Mason's little cousin, who is almost three months old now. My Aunt Linda has asked for a quilt, that I will gladly make for her. But all I can see when I walk into that room is Mason's quilt on the altar, and my grandmother's quilt covering a hospital bed. And all I can do is sit at my sewing machine and cry. That is the last thing I want to do. My grandmother is the reason I sew. She made my clothes when I was small, the best Halloween costumes. And I want to honor Mason's memory and courage in quilts for babies. But I just can't bring myself to sew.

I don't know how long it's going to take. But I hope soon I can sit at my beloved sewing machine and make lovely things for the people I love, and in honor of the people I love. I ache to create, but I ache more for one last moment with my grandmother, one last shot of Mason's amazing smile.

Go love someone

Good news people. The cows got out of the pasture the night before Brad left for a week. I did not have to cry, go to the neighbors, or wonder which bullets went to which gun. An improvement, don't you think?

Do me a favor, ok? Go hug your pets. (No, I'm not hugging the cows, they are not pets.) Penny and Keon have been driving me crazy since last night, wondering where Dad is. And I haven't been patient with them. And then I read this and I'm crying and loving on the dogs. Even if they do need a bath. I'm so lucky to have two loyal companions who keep my company, no matter my mood. I think biscuits are in order as well.

Death by Livestock

It's official, the animals on the property are out to make me more crazy than I already am, or to flat out kill me, and take the place over for themselves. Send help. I'm thinking a St Bernard with a cask of vodka. I hate brandy!

On Monday morning my beloved husband left me to fend for myself for a couple of days. The last time he did this, the cows, pigs, dogs, and horses all played musical pastures. I did not sanction this, but as the livestock outnumber me greatly, my vote was not considered. Since I control the food and water around this place, you would think they would all like to keep me happy, but apparently not.

So, back to this Monday. I'm up early (for me anyway, I like to pretend there is only one 7 o'clock in the day), and get the pigs fed. The horses and cows are on pasture, and have plenty of water. My darling hens, however, do need their outside waterer refreshed. As the darlings have begun to lay the cutest little eggs, I was in the mood to oblige them. Bad idea.

Keon the Yellow Lab was helping me with chores, mostly because he has an escape hatch built into the back fence that Brad has not had a chance to fix yet. I go into the hen's yard, and shut the gate, but do not latch it. I do not latch it because when I told Brad I'd really like a latch on the inside of the gate as well as the outside, his response was that I really shouldn't need one. Ahem.

Keon loves to fluster the hens. I keep both eyes on him when outside with the chickens. Now, he is not malicious at all about this. It is clear from the expression on his face, he thinks this is a delightful way to pass the time, and the ladies love to run about in all directions. Ahem.

When 13 hens hit an unlatched gate enmasse, it will fly open. Law of physics and all that jazz. Keon grins and goes his happy way. I am left to try to gather the girls back up, and put them back in their yard for the day. I don't like to let them run when I'm not home, as we have (a very few) neighbor dogs who roam, coyotes, hawks, eagles, things of this sort. All of the girls cooperated beautifully, except for two of my Buff Orpingtons. They were on the opposite side of the pen from the gate, and having a wonderful time rooting around in the lawn clippings from Brad's mow job of the day before.

I head around the other side of the hen house, certain I can shoo the Buffs ahead of me, they will obediantly toddle through the open gate, and I will contain everyone for the day. All was going well, until I stepped into the ginormous hole covered by lawn clippings. I was on my face before I knew it. Thank mercy Brad had mowed the day before, otherwise I probably would have landed on the wheelbarrow that had previously occupied that space. As it was, my right knee and shin took the blunt of the fall, and hurt like hell. Honestly, I laid there for a couple of minutes wondering if I hadn't broken something.

When I fell, the chickens, of course, left the yard enmasse again. I decided that they deserved a day of roaming, and it might just serve those two Buffs right if they did meet a coyote or hawk. I hobbled up to the house, Keon beside me grinning and very unrepentant of the trouble he had started. Happily, nothing is broken, although my knee swelled up to impressive proportions in the next couple of hours. It still hurts like hell if I bump it, and the deep bruise is turning a lovely shade of green.

I'm telling you people, I may not survive the animals here. I swear they have it out for me!

Eggs, I have Eggs!

Let's just ignore the fact that I haven't posted in I don't know how long, ok? Thanks!

Now on to matters of great import. My two darling Rhode Island Red hens have begun to bless me with lovely brown eggs. I had scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday morning, and they were delicious! Now I just have to wait (patiently, which is not one of my finer points), for the 6 Buff Orpingtons, and the 5 Barred Rocks to lay. My egg days have begun people! Good news is, I have lots of friends and family who want eggs, because there is no way Brad and I are going to be able to keep up with 13 hens.

Yes, I did have roosters. They are now in the freezer. One attacked my poor wee hens, and the other decided to attack me. I made Brad do the evil deed, and the girls are none the wiser that I ordered the execution of their boyfriends. Let's just keep it that way, hmm?

Brad and I are alone in our house for the first time since 1987! Sara and her boyfriend moved into an apartment the first of July. I miss her, but I've wasted no time filling the closet in her old room with unfinshed quilt tops, and I'm measuring the room to get my own longarm quilting machine. That won't happen until next spring, but I'm so excited!!! At this time, I have over 20 quilt tops waiting to be quilted. Yikes!

Life has been busy, money is still nonexistant (what else is new!), and Brad and I are adjusting to things staying where we put them, and having milk in the fridge. Also, it's amazing how much longer the bathroom stays clean! Who'd have thought?

No, I have not fallen into a volcano.

It's so much easier to avoid life than actually live it. And I've been avoiding everything, work, play, my family, my pets, even the things I love. It's much easier to check out, surf the web, watch TV, start one project, only to start another. Spend money I don't have on shit I don't need.

But avoidance is only getting me depressed, angry, behind in everything, more overweight and out of shape. Did I mention depressed?

So, I'm trying to get back to my life. My loves, my hates, my mehs. Bear with me (if anyone ever reads this but me). I'm coming back slowly, and hopefully better than before. Hell, I'm even making potato salad for dinner!

I'm tired of avoiding. Time to start living again, no matter how stressful and wonderful that is.

Things Not To Ponder

I had a delicious Water Buffalo Mozzarella, fresh basil, tomato, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, and pepper sandwich on 9 Grain Bread for lunch. It was exquisitely delicious. Words cannot describe. I do not however, even want to begin to contemplate how one begins to milk a water buffalo. Just don't want to know.

Loss

Sometime this week I would have been celebrating the 16th birthday of my second child. I am mourning instead, because I suffered a miscarriage 10 weeks into my pregnancy. Early I know, but no less devastating to lose my baby. It still hurts today.

Most of the time, I'm okay. This loss may explain my zeal for making baby quilts to be given to infants born at the local hospitals, babies who sometimes go home without a warm blankie to snuggle in. I honestly don't think about my missing child while I'm working on those quilts. I'm filled with joy, thinking of the child that particular quilt will end up with, sewing love and good wishes as well as stitches.

But today, that loss is heavy on my heart. Someone in my life is facing the emminent loss of their unborn child. I can do nothing for this person but love them, and grieve with them. And to be honest, that sucks. Big time.

Tomorrow, I will be working on three more quilts for babies I will never meet. And I'm afraid that I will be shedding tears as well as joy and love all over those quilts.

It's A Good Thing I'm Cute

So, I made this grand decision that I was going to raise laying hens, reducing my family and friends need to buy eggs at the store. I, of course, jumped into this with both feet, and not much of a sense of what this was all going to entail, but hey, a positive attitude counts for something.

So on a Sunday morning, Brad and I headed down to the local feed store, because it was Chick Days! Over 1000 chicks, all tiny, cute peeping bundles of fuzz. Now mind you, we did not intend to purchase chicks on this day. We didn't have a coop built yet, and besides, Brad was sure this was only the first of four chick days. We'd have at least a month to get the coop up, and get ready for said chickens. On a side note, Brad and I have been together for almost 24 years now. He should know that I am totally powerless in the face of cute, tiny, fuzzy baby animals. This is why we have five barn cats. Barn cats that I feed twice a day, name, and worry over incessantly. And a house cat. The only reason we don't have more than two dogs is that Keon is HUGE, and the thought of another dog galloping around the house fills me with terror. All I'm saying, Brad should have known better.

Upon arrival at said local feed store, we found the room of chicks. Dear sweet mercy people, the level of cuteness was staggering. As was the level of peeping. I never stood a chance. Especially when our friend and next door neighbor who works there informed us that this was the only Chick Days. There would be no other days of suffocating cute fluffiness. What's a girl to do? Undetered by the fact that I had no coop for these darling chicks, I proceeded to pick out 16 darling, tiny Rhode Island Red Chicks. Was I at all concerned that only four of them were red, and the other 12 were yellow? No, not me. Remember that comment earlier about not much sense. Yeah.

People, I have 12 Cornish Cross broiler chickens, and four Rhode Island Red chickens. Cornish Cross broiler chickens are not egg layers. They are MEAT chickens. I did not want meat chickens at this juncture in my chicken career. Eventually yes, but not now. I wanted laying hens.

Looking at my darling Rhode Island Red chicks this morning (they are about three weeks 0ld at this point), I noticed that three of them appear to be growing lovely, curving ROOSTER tails. Yes, that's right. Out of 16 chicks, I managed to get ONE, I repeat, ONE freaking laying hen. Please excuse me while I have a little drink.

Home Again, Home Again

As of Saturday, February 21st, we are home, sweet home. It was just a little over two months since the fire, but it certainly seemed like a lifetime. Everything went by the wayside, except for working on the house. Now we are trying to put everything away, and resume some sort of normalcy in our lives. Or at least what passes for normal around here.

I wish the blog had not suffered, but I only had so much energy, and to tell the truth, I spent a period of time terrible depressed. I am better now, and so grateful for my home and my family. I will be posting on a regular basis now. I find this helps me clear my mind, and focus. Now if it could only clear out all those boxes cluttering up my pretty new home! LOL