Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Overwhelmed and Tired of it


Does the word 'overwhelmed' also mean 'frakkin' nutcase'? If it doesn't, it has to be closely related.

Previously I reported spending at least one day with pain so severe I was bedridden. Believe me, that never happens. I have too much to do to gimp out so no matter what I feel like, it's outside at daylight for me. I thought my arthritis was getting worse but I was wrong. That day was the beginning of a severe case of shingles. It's been weeks since it began and I am still in the process of healing. The blisters are gone but the areas where the blisters were are still drying and yes, those areas are sore as shit. There are at least two places where it's going to scar. Lucky me I'm too old to care about that stuff anymore. I never thought I would look forward to the day I would be able to wear bloomers again. I'm trying not to set my goals too high.

In the news... All I've heard lately is about a huge egg recall due to salmonella. Yep, he who controls the food controls the masses. It's a sad thing that not only is something as basic as food so expensive but the method in which it is produced these days will kill you. I love the way the factory farms preach how you shouldn't get things like milk, eggs and meat from people like me who do things like they've been done forever. New and improved production methods are safer. Really??? When was the last time you heard of a farmer with e-coli? Salmonella? I'm a walking monument to that stuff! Eggs were never meant to be scrubbed and then covered in wax. They come out of the hen with an airtight protective covering. If you wash that off the inside of the egg is open to contamination. People have become so fucking stupid most of them don't know where eggs come from anyway. Egg producers can't risk people learning eggs shoot right out a chicken's rear and might get a little poo on them in the process. I'm glad I have my own egg producers, poo and all.

I didn't get a calf this year. I hate dealing with the gut bumping bastards but I like having fresh beef in the freezer. In 2012 there will be no steaks for me. The only thing I ever buy at the grocery store is chicken - and kielbasa when I get a craving - and only when that is on sale. I do look at the price of things once in a while. How on earth do people afford to buy meat? I think of young folks with families trying to afford food and for the life of me I don't know how they do it. How are people supposed to eat healthy when the only thing they can afford is the boxed, fortified with lots of chemicals shit? One green pepper is nearly $4. Four damn dollars for a green pepper??? I'm not much for pondering conspiracies but I can't help but wonder what this is a preview of.

I saw another fox the other day. I came out of the house to a rousing chorus of cackles and figured I'd better check it out. When I got near the hay shed a fox ran out and into the woods. Dear Jude went after it but he had to go around the buck lots while the fox was able to run through them. Jude spent some time barking but I don't know if he found where the thing lives or not. There were feathers lying around but the fox left empty handed (empty mouthed?) and I didn't see anyone mortally wounded so I guess I thwarted a fowl crime. I have one duckling left out of a clutch of twelve. I'm pretty sure it's a drake and since my one and only drake is getting old I really need a replacement. Out of thirty plus ducklings this year, this little fella is the only survivor. I have him under Fort Knox security. During the day he's outside in a pen but at night I put him in a cage placed inside the horse trailer. He hates being carried back and forth every day but you know what I tell him? Shut the fuck up.

Sunday has been jumping the fence and helping herself to the feed barrels. If she were a horse I'd panic but mules have enough sense to stop eating before they kill themselves. I came home from the grocery store the other day to find Sunday with her head in the chicken scratch bag. That wouldn't be so incredible except the bag was inside a non-functioning chest freezer. Miss SmartyPants had opened the lid and fixed it so it stayed up while she munched. She had opened six barrels of feed and sampled all of those too from the looks of things. When supper time came I put only a small amount of feed in her bucket but she stayed with the hay. See what I mean? She knew she had eaten enough concentrate feed to do her so she declined her supper. Too smart. I caught her out again the next day so I tied her and cleaned her ears. She hasn't been back out since.

It's almost light enough to see what I'm doing outside so it's time to put my shoes on and head out the door. Aren't you glad Jesus was a carpenter? If he had been a farmer there would be no day of rest.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Next time...

In my last post I whined about spending a Saturday in immense pain. Well, I thought it was my arthritis acting up but nooooo... I have since come down with a god awful case of shingles. I have never had shingles before and I pray to all that is holy I never get them again. I have already told my health care professional that if this happens again I want a morphine drip and a catheter. Lay my naked ass in the bed and don't wake me til it's over. If you've never had a case of these babies, fall to your knees right now and pray you never get them. Shingles hurt like hell.

On the brighter side, the anti-virals seem to be working. The blisters that cover most of my left thigh, among other places, are starting to dry up. Just show me where to plant the kiss I'm already puckered up for. Seriously. I'd kiss the ass of Genghis Kahn if I thought it would help. I've soaked myself in so many vinegar baths I smell like a frikkin' pickle. If I manage to sleep through the entire night tonight then I know I'm on the mend.

Even better than getting better is being able to go outside and visit with Sunday for a while today. I was fixing the feed buckets for the equines this morning when Sunday's pretty faced poked into the room. Bless her heart, she had come for a visit. It's good to be missed. I finished fixing the feed pails and she followed me back to the pasture. I opened the gate - that she had previously opened for herself - and told her to go in. She went right through it because mules are smart that way. I loved on her and gave her treats before putting her fly mask on. She has very sensitive eyes and has to wear it or her eyes swell terribly from the irritation. She hates it but it's necessary. This evening she hadn't come up so I walked about halfway down the hill and called her name out two or three times. In just a few minutes she came trotting to me. I love that girl. I am going to try to get out early tomorrow and spend a little more time with her.

I hope soon to get out of my whining phase and get to telling stories which is why I wanted this blog to begin with. I didn't mean for it to be a whinefest. I apologize for that. After waiting years to begin I seem to have started at a seriously low point in my life. You know, the peak and valley thing? Grand Canyon going on here. I'll perk up soon. Just as soon as I stop itching and Stumpy stops licking his nuts... Sheesh, if they aren't clean by now it just ain't gonna happen. Stop the slurping already!

Monday, August 2, 2010

It isn't over yet


What happened to staying at home, minding my own business and drinking myself to death? Not exactly something that will win a Nobel prize but shit, it's something to strive for. Right? My arthritis has been acting up so bad it has me nauseated. A person can only take so many pain meds without wishing something would help without putting one in a coma.
Saturday was the worst. I got up at 6 a.m. as usual. Hubby was snoring away... as usual. At 7:30 I had barely accomplished cleaning the chicks (I clean them every morning. They need to go outside.) and feeding my parrot. I was in so much pain it can't be described except to say, kill me now. I didn't want to deal with the consequences but I finally decided that falling to pieces in the yard and lying there until someone found me wasn't really how I wanted to spend my Saturday so I made myself go wake the Hubby. He got up in fifteen or so minutes and I told him I was going to bed. 90 minutes later I was still listening to him complain about work, animals, whatever, etc. The pain meds were working their magic and I didn't care one whit about what Hubby had to say anymore. Not that I cared to begin with but I have to act like I do or pay the price. I warmed my bean thing in the nuker and crawled what was left of me into bed. The only reason I got out of bed that day was to warm my beaner thinger and partake of more Vicodin and Vodka. It was a very sleepy and painful day. Hubby spent the day stomping through the house and slamming doors. Why should he have to do any of the chores around here? That's what he keeps me for. I spent 18 days in California this past June. That is the only time in the past 2 1/2 years Hubby has had to do any of my chores. And yes, he was pissed off because he had to do them on Saturday. I'm not allowed to get sick.
Sunday (the day, not the mule) didn't start out much better but I knew the animals hadn't seen fresh water since I had given it to them last so I got up and dragged myself out to do the chores. It is Monday and my left leg still feels like it has been slammed in a door and should have the most awesome bruise known to mankind. My girls were here today and bless their little hearts, they want to sit with me in my chair and try to do it without touching my leg. It's so sweet to have them snuggle me without hurting me. Lily is four and she has more compassion than Hubby.

Tomorrow will begin bright and early with girls coming at 6:30. I hope my legs are working better because I thought of a good place to take them and I need to be able to walk. I'm going to have to break down and buy myself a cane. I see it coming and I hate it. This getting old shit sucks.