Ahhh, the sweet and slow Country Life. It's been an adjustment, I'm not going to lie. Anyone who has read any of my blogs should know the adjustment has been hard and quite comical sometimes. So, just as I was beginning to get used to the feeding schedules, the children not the animals, and the watering and the weather, blah, blah, blah, a scourge so horrific came down upon my family like the plague! Chiggers!!
Oh, I don't use the word hate lightly my friends and I can tell you with the utmost certainty I HATE CHIGGERS! You cannot see them, so you just don't know they're there until you take your 4 year old son to the doctor for a terrible rash in his groin/nether regional area to find out it's chiggers. Oh, and it might be scabies, but most likely chigger. CHILLS DOWN THE SPINE EWWWWW BUGS!! Teensy tiny bugs crawling on us without even knowing.
After finding this on my son, it quickly moved on to my daughter in the same area. Not on the family jewels, no matter how much she tries to convince you that she has that too, but the nether region of the girl type. Hmm, perhaps it was when she squatted to poop in the yard? I'd bet all my money on it! The boy whips it out without caution to pee whenever the urge hits him too. It's no wonder my naked loving children have chigger bites on these particularly sensitive areas. SHIVERS AGAIN!
So, we get all the creams, antibiotic/anti-inflammatory/anti-itch/what-have-you and begin to apply every night after bath. We've also gotten a little redneck pool going here that we dip in before going in the house as much as possible to try to get them to release their unsavory death-grip bites. I have to say that the girl has cleared up significantly since the ruling of NO PULLING DOWN YOUR PANTS IN THE YARD was put into effect. The boy, however, not so much.
The boy still somehow has a plethora of bites on his, ahem, let's call them the jewels. I'm not sure how he got them so concentrated except to guess that he very carefully only pulls out the junk to pee when needed and swears on the other hand that he does not do that outside anymore Mom! Yeah, I'm sure you don't. I think that boys, and men for that matter, have a need, nay a primal urge, to pee on their property as often as humanly possible. I picture it much like a dog I had as a child who just could put a little pee on each post he encountered on a walk and really not run out through the entire neighborhood. Brilliant, calculating, and amazing these creatures with these appendages.
So, have I digressed again? Anyway, what are Chankles exactly? Well, they are what my ankles look like currently. Not to brag, but there was a time in my life when I actually liked my legs. Well, at least part of them, the bottom part never the thighs. Anyway, they were smooth and tan and looked nice in heels. Now, heels or not, there are still a pocking of chigger bites all over them about 1/3 of the way up to my knees. It's damned attractive. It's apparently my redneck ankle bracelets that are really more like a cuff and they itch incessantly. So, I have applied to myself daily the aforementioned creams to no avail. I spray bug spray liberally, but I think the bastards sit and wait until it wears off to make their move. They are wily, I am certain of that!
This goes along with the attractive poison ivy I found to be bulging out in a reaction on my face after a day spent gardening and pulling roots that were apparently um poison ivy. My eye was almost swollen shut! Thank you modern medicine for saving me the heart break and constant itching on my face, across my eye no less. This added to the lovely full calf rash the Hubster obtained while pulling poison ivy and swearing "I'm not allergic to anything" in his charming accent. Yeah, how did that work for you!
All in all we're healing, and back on the track to getting adjusted. We still miss our friends, but we're making new friends too. It's a daily adventure and I'm hoping to get through the chigger season unscathed, or should I say unscabed? BRRRR!
E Voila
Momma D
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Crazy and Cuddly Chickens?
He was free, the Hubster said excitedly when he brought the freaky looking rooster out of the box. The other one was five bucks, so I figure I got the roosters for a bargain $2.50 each. Yes, the Hubster is always on line for a bargain. Cheap or free, but free is always better, right? Well, in terms of roosters for our hens, that is debatable!
I have no idea how to describe our "free" chicken except to say he looks like he's certifiably insane! He has crazy black feathers that dart from his head in all directions. He has a freakishly long neck and he walks around like he is the coolest chicken, albeit craziest, on the block. The cock of the walk, if I may say. Speaking of, the Hubster has also integrated "cock" jokes to his repertoire in all of this and I'm beginning to suspect he got El Pollo Loco simply for the jokes. This morning he sent me an IM stating that he "let his cock out this morning" and since there are 2, he has declared that he's had "surgery to implant 2 cocks". As is was a little funny the first time, like poop and fart humor, this too will get old fast!
But I digress...as usual.
The crazy free chicken had to be put in a dog crate by itself last night. Apparently he was never taught manners and was terrorizing the hens in their coop. I can report that today has been a better day, there are a few hens hanging out with this beast. I have also learned today that he is as fast as lightning. NO, seriously this chicken can book it across the run like nobody's business! When he runs, he looks like he is on fire. His crazy black and a few brown feathers blow in the wind. But he's pretty funny to watch, and I think he's getting a get out of jail free card.
Chicken, or rooster excuse me, is cuddly. I'm seriously not kidding. My son has taken to him and the bird lets him hold him in his arms and he nuzzles in for a cuddle. He likes to go for rides in the kids' police car. Yes, a bird on patrol. I'm not sure why or how, but we seem to get the odd ones out in this family. Maybe we are odd ones ourselves? Well, not maybe!
Ok, so on a more serious note, the crazy one. He was free and probably because he was a problem child as demonstrated in last nights terrorization antics. No, I'm pretty sure it's NOT a word, but I think it fits! Anyway, I'm pretty sure he is the way he is because at some point in his short chicken life, he was abused and/or neglected. His wings were clipped, perhaps to keep him from taking off, but his disposition is honestly terror. He's afraid of everyone human and especially afraid of our dog. I personally don't blame him as we are all significantly larger than he is. Anyway, I think the mellowing of today (which was slight and barely noticable) came because he has had fresh water and food and a place to scratch and run around for the first time in his life. Both roosters were completely amazed with dirt and grass. Snuggles just because he's young and was kept inside and didn't have the room to run, but crazy because he was neglected. I'm very happy that they are BOTH here.
I joke and make fun of the Hubster because he makes decisions based on things being free and sometimes those decisions aren't always well thought out. We persevere and make it work most of the time. And I'm pretty sure he didn't take notice to the state of the bird so much when he heard the word free. He was, however, the first to say he thinks that Loco (I'm throwing around different names as I'm not sure what to call him yet) was treated badly. As it was with our puppy, our 60 pound puppy, these animals were not cared for especially. I don't personally know what their past lives held before they arrived at our hodge-podge household, but it doesn't matter anymore. There's a lot of love in our home and on our land for all these animals. We are happy to have them. And yes, some will become dinner some day. They will all have very happy lives until their last days, no matter how they come!
Love Y'all!
Momma D
xoxo
I have no idea how to describe our "free" chicken except to say he looks like he's certifiably insane! He has crazy black feathers that dart from his head in all directions. He has a freakishly long neck and he walks around like he is the coolest chicken, albeit craziest, on the block. The cock of the walk, if I may say. Speaking of, the Hubster has also integrated "cock" jokes to his repertoire in all of this and I'm beginning to suspect he got El Pollo Loco simply for the jokes. This morning he sent me an IM stating that he "let his cock out this morning" and since there are 2, he has declared that he's had "surgery to implant 2 cocks". As is was a little funny the first time, like poop and fart humor, this too will get old fast!
But I digress...as usual.
The crazy free chicken had to be put in a dog crate by itself last night. Apparently he was never taught manners and was terrorizing the hens in their coop. I can report that today has been a better day, there are a few hens hanging out with this beast. I have also learned today that he is as fast as lightning. NO, seriously this chicken can book it across the run like nobody's business! When he runs, he looks like he is on fire. His crazy black and a few brown feathers blow in the wind. But he's pretty funny to watch, and I think he's getting a get out of jail free card.
Chicken, or rooster excuse me, is cuddly. I'm seriously not kidding. My son has taken to him and the bird lets him hold him in his arms and he nuzzles in for a cuddle. He likes to go for rides in the kids' police car. Yes, a bird on patrol. I'm not sure why or how, but we seem to get the odd ones out in this family. Maybe we are odd ones ourselves? Well, not maybe!
Ok, so on a more serious note, the crazy one. He was free and probably because he was a problem child as demonstrated in last nights terrorization antics. No, I'm pretty sure it's NOT a word, but I think it fits! Anyway, I'm pretty sure he is the way he is because at some point in his short chicken life, he was abused and/or neglected. His wings were clipped, perhaps to keep him from taking off, but his disposition is honestly terror. He's afraid of everyone human and especially afraid of our dog. I personally don't blame him as we are all significantly larger than he is. Anyway, I think the mellowing of today (which was slight and barely noticable) came because he has had fresh water and food and a place to scratch and run around for the first time in his life. Both roosters were completely amazed with dirt and grass. Snuggles just because he's young and was kept inside and didn't have the room to run, but crazy because he was neglected. I'm very happy that they are BOTH here.
I joke and make fun of the Hubster because he makes decisions based on things being free and sometimes those decisions aren't always well thought out. We persevere and make it work most of the time. And I'm pretty sure he didn't take notice to the state of the bird so much when he heard the word free. He was, however, the first to say he thinks that Loco (I'm throwing around different names as I'm not sure what to call him yet) was treated badly. As it was with our puppy, our 60 pound puppy, these animals were not cared for especially. I don't personally know what their past lives held before they arrived at our hodge-podge household, but it doesn't matter anymore. There's a lot of love in our home and on our land for all these animals. We are happy to have them. And yes, some will become dinner some day. They will all have very happy lives until their last days, no matter how they come!
Love Y'all!
Momma D
xoxo
Monday, June 16, 2014
Slow Down! Who Me??
The past few years have been a whirl of feeling crappy. All. The. Time. I kept doing stuff in hopes that my body would snap out of it. I was convinced that it was all in my head and that at any moment something would click and it would be over. I thought I just needed to find my passion. I needed to find what I loved to do. As it turns out, I was doing what I loved and getting the opportunity now to do it full time, but my body was screaming at me to slow the F down!!!
It took me a plethora of doctor visits and tests before I got so sick of feeling sick, I went for the ultimate workup, MAYO!! I had myself convinced that going in they were going to tell me I was making myself sick with my anxiety and perfectionism. As it turns out, I wasn't. Somewhere along the line of being pregnant with my little girl, the Naked Princess (another story for another time), I got sick and my body never recovered. In fact, it went into overdrive and basically shuts down when I push it.
The diagnosis was Fibromyalgia, or Myalgic Encepholomyelititis (?) ME/CFS, in addition to some weird gooky thing going on with my Autonomic Nervous System that was causing me extreme dizziness and the collapse I had in the yard. This was the end of the line in doctors, the best of the best telling me this. I was thrilled and confused. I found out that I can manage it, but it most likely will always be the Bane of my existence. Why the Bane? Well, I'm apparently a Type A personality and I'm not happy if I'm not in control and doing absolutely EVERYTHING! The doctors had to tell me that too! HA!
No, not me!! Anyone who knows me will tell me they're right, but I wanted to believe I was still 20 years old and able to do whatever I wanted at any given time. As it turns out, not so much. I'm in my 40s and in addition to aging, this had to happen too. Gosh, it's like double old, UGH! So, what do I do? Is there a fountain of youth and a cure? If so, I'll take 2!!
Ok, so I got home from my travels and decided I'd listen. I've been exercising about 10 minutes every night and taking my time getting things done while not worrying about all that needs to get done. Letting it go I guess. It's been REALLY hard, but if I want to be worth anything to those people who obviously love me a ton, I need to slow down. I behaved and got way more done than I had in a long time. It turns out that slow and steady really DOES win the race. It still didn't make it any easier...
Denial sets in and I start thinking too much about it, as usual. I was told that I have 10 bucks of energy to spend a day, not a penny more, and I cannot budget and save for one big day either. Hardest thing for me to hear, slow down. But, but, but...I have things to do, I have plans, I have big dreams!! How could this happen to ME? I'm so active and busy and all that crap! I cannot slow down. It turns out that when I don't slow down, my body just puts on the brakes, and that's way worse than just tuning down a little bit. On days when I crash, I find it almost impossible to finish anything. My body feels like concrete and my mind won't shut the heck up!
So, after a week of behaving, I felt good and tried in a weekend to do it all. Now it's Monday. My body is PISSED at me! My joints are burning hot and stinging like bees and my head hurts and stomach sick. Yes, this is the feeling I'd been trying to convey to so many doctors and loved ones. This is what they described to me as my body telling me to slow the hell down. And this blog is me putting it out there so I have no more excuses and I don't wear myself to the bone again. Not a cry for help, but a touch of self-awareness I didn't have. Maybe through writing about it, someone else can relate and realize they too need to slow down. For now, I think I'm starting to get it.
Yes, I'll probably overdo it again as it is my nature to conquer the world, but lucky for me I have loved ones who keep an eye on me. And a Hubster who is truly cheering me on to change! Now I know the value of the RV I came home to, sort of (yes another story for another time). It will allow me to do things I LOVE with those I LOVE and still be able to take my time! He is always thinking about me ;)
Ok, enough yapping about it...I'm going to whack some weeds! What? I say F you Fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, POTS, or whatever the F you are! I've got 10 bucks and today I will use it wisely!!
Peace Out!
xoxo
It took me a plethora of doctor visits and tests before I got so sick of feeling sick, I went for the ultimate workup, MAYO!! I had myself convinced that going in they were going to tell me I was making myself sick with my anxiety and perfectionism. As it turns out, I wasn't. Somewhere along the line of being pregnant with my little girl, the Naked Princess (another story for another time), I got sick and my body never recovered. In fact, it went into overdrive and basically shuts down when I push it.
The diagnosis was Fibromyalgia, or Myalgic Encepholomyelititis (?) ME/CFS, in addition to some weird gooky thing going on with my Autonomic Nervous System that was causing me extreme dizziness and the collapse I had in the yard. This was the end of the line in doctors, the best of the best telling me this. I was thrilled and confused. I found out that I can manage it, but it most likely will always be the Bane of my existence. Why the Bane? Well, I'm apparently a Type A personality and I'm not happy if I'm not in control and doing absolutely EVERYTHING! The doctors had to tell me that too! HA!
No, not me!! Anyone who knows me will tell me they're right, but I wanted to believe I was still 20 years old and able to do whatever I wanted at any given time. As it turns out, not so much. I'm in my 40s and in addition to aging, this had to happen too. Gosh, it's like double old, UGH! So, what do I do? Is there a fountain of youth and a cure? If so, I'll take 2!!
Ok, so I got home from my travels and decided I'd listen. I've been exercising about 10 minutes every night and taking my time getting things done while not worrying about all that needs to get done. Letting it go I guess. It's been REALLY hard, but if I want to be worth anything to those people who obviously love me a ton, I need to slow down. I behaved and got way more done than I had in a long time. It turns out that slow and steady really DOES win the race. It still didn't make it any easier...
Denial sets in and I start thinking too much about it, as usual. I was told that I have 10 bucks of energy to spend a day, not a penny more, and I cannot budget and save for one big day either. Hardest thing for me to hear, slow down. But, but, but...I have things to do, I have plans, I have big dreams!! How could this happen to ME? I'm so active and busy and all that crap! I cannot slow down. It turns out that when I don't slow down, my body just puts on the brakes, and that's way worse than just tuning down a little bit. On days when I crash, I find it almost impossible to finish anything. My body feels like concrete and my mind won't shut the heck up!
So, after a week of behaving, I felt good and tried in a weekend to do it all. Now it's Monday. My body is PISSED at me! My joints are burning hot and stinging like bees and my head hurts and stomach sick. Yes, this is the feeling I'd been trying to convey to so many doctors and loved ones. This is what they described to me as my body telling me to slow the hell down. And this blog is me putting it out there so I have no more excuses and I don't wear myself to the bone again. Not a cry for help, but a touch of self-awareness I didn't have. Maybe through writing about it, someone else can relate and realize they too need to slow down. For now, I think I'm starting to get it.
Yes, I'll probably overdo it again as it is my nature to conquer the world, but lucky for me I have loved ones who keep an eye on me. And a Hubster who is truly cheering me on to change! Now I know the value of the RV I came home to, sort of (yes another story for another time). It will allow me to do things I LOVE with those I LOVE and still be able to take my time! He is always thinking about me ;)
Ok, enough yapping about it...I'm going to whack some weeds! What? I say F you Fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, POTS, or whatever the F you are! I've got 10 bucks and today I will use it wisely!!
Peace Out!
xoxo
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Stink Butt Has a Farm
As I struggle with a little bit of writers block, which I actually think is because I have too many ideas in my head to focus on just one, I asked my 4 year old what he thought I should write about. His first answer (dare I say it, instinct) was the title of this blog today "Stink Butt Has a Farm". Brilliant! Why with all the "noise" around the house lately surrounding different odors, I thought it wildly appropriate. Yes, we love our toilet humor!
Aside from all the flatulent occurrences, that are "ripe" within the walls of our house, there truly has been a lot of talk about odors of late. Why? I can tell you that I truly do not know. All I really do know is the theme of my past week has been this. Maybe the root cause is really because I have a 2, 4, and 36 year old in the house! Or maybe it was the realization that I smell like a farm and my brain has been searching to find all the sources of this complex olifactory indulgence.
It all started with my arrival back from a week long hiatus that the first odor hit me. I came into the house and noticed it smelled weird, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I had been away long enough to completely withdraw from the smell and it hit me like the first time I'd been smelling it. It didn't really hit me though until the smell went away that it was Farm Odor, or Eau du Farm (no, my French is NOT GOOD).
It smells like a farm in here and the more time I spend, the less I notice it. So, I must smell like a farm and just don't notice. I have noticed it on others in the past when I was not living with a Donkey, 4 Goats, 13 Hens, 10 Guinea Fowl, 4 Rabbits (yes, another one died), a Dog, and 2 Cats. Now it's just normal background smell. It's my odor now and it's inescapable. I had the thought at one time in my life that people just didn't practice proper hygiene, but it's not really about that at all. It simply sticks to you when you walk by. So, to all who see me publicly, you're welcome! I smell like grass and earth and manure and feed, not to mention the additions that my little ones contribute.
Since then, I have noticed many references to smells and/or stink. I will not bore you with the details of every revelation considering it's kind of gross and distasteful (or dis-smellful?). The wrap of of the odor week came yesterday while my son and I were making our Popsicle Stick Dinosaur and Truffula Tree Farm, yes we did make that, and talking about life. We were having a very dynamic conversation, and I was relishing in being blessed with the opportunity to really get to know my children when he said "Mom, my stuffed animal dogs don't stink, they poop, but they don't stink". Hmm, ok you're 100% right about the not stinking (unless of course they are the victim of a mis-directed vomit or other type of frequent accident in this house). But how do they poop?
Suffice it to say that I didn't ask because it doesn't matter. As long as he cleans it up, I'm not that concerned with how his stuffed animals poop. I'd like him to pick up after the real dog outside, but I digress... and nagging simply doesn't work. So, I'm happy to say that in my revelations and discoveries about the change in the smell of my family, I have also found that my children are engaging, funny, smart, and sometimes stinky. And among many other things, I'm truly blessed. I'll just let it be.
Aside from all the flatulent occurrences, that are "ripe" within the walls of our house, there truly has been a lot of talk about odors of late. Why? I can tell you that I truly do not know. All I really do know is the theme of my past week has been this. Maybe the root cause is really because I have a 2, 4, and 36 year old in the house! Or maybe it was the realization that I smell like a farm and my brain has been searching to find all the sources of this complex olifactory indulgence.
It all started with my arrival back from a week long hiatus that the first odor hit me. I came into the house and noticed it smelled weird, and I couldn't put my finger on it. I had been away long enough to completely withdraw from the smell and it hit me like the first time I'd been smelling it. It didn't really hit me though until the smell went away that it was Farm Odor, or Eau du Farm (no, my French is NOT GOOD).
It smells like a farm in here and the more time I spend, the less I notice it. So, I must smell like a farm and just don't notice. I have noticed it on others in the past when I was not living with a Donkey, 4 Goats, 13 Hens, 10 Guinea Fowl, 4 Rabbits (yes, another one died), a Dog, and 2 Cats. Now it's just normal background smell. It's my odor now and it's inescapable. I had the thought at one time in my life that people just didn't practice proper hygiene, but it's not really about that at all. It simply sticks to you when you walk by. So, to all who see me publicly, you're welcome! I smell like grass and earth and manure and feed, not to mention the additions that my little ones contribute.
Since then, I have noticed many references to smells and/or stink. I will not bore you with the details of every revelation considering it's kind of gross and distasteful (or dis-smellful?). The wrap of of the odor week came yesterday while my son and I were making our Popsicle Stick Dinosaur and Truffula Tree Farm, yes we did make that, and talking about life. We were having a very dynamic conversation, and I was relishing in being blessed with the opportunity to really get to know my children when he said "Mom, my stuffed animal dogs don't stink, they poop, but they don't stink". Hmm, ok you're 100% right about the not stinking (unless of course they are the victim of a mis-directed vomit or other type of frequent accident in this house). But how do they poop?
Suffice it to say that I didn't ask because it doesn't matter. As long as he cleans it up, I'm not that concerned with how his stuffed animals poop. I'd like him to pick up after the real dog outside, but I digress... and nagging simply doesn't work. So, I'm happy to say that in my revelations and discoveries about the change in the smell of my family, I have also found that my children are engaging, funny, smart, and sometimes stinky. And among many other things, I'm truly blessed. I'll just let it be.
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