Ye Gods!! Now that we have the Dish Network, and access to CNN; Fox News; and all the news the world could possibly supply, we have access to all the problems and troubles of the world. Listening to the news is like the opposite to a prayer. It's like a prayer to the listeners, " Watch out for this, did you hear about this and that, and ain't it awful all the terrible things happening to everyone everywhere"...and what the heck are we going to do about it!!?? I sure the hell don't know.

I realize that anyone's depression could be blamed on hearing too much about too much, and it's like an overload of bad news.

Like someone wanting to see what an accident on the highway is all about... they have no further to go but their armchair in their living room. Yes...I know one only has to turn it off... flick to another channel. There is a remote, but when it's not in my hands,I like to retreat to the coolness of the downstairs even in the cold weather when I could get hypothermia sitting here at the computer. I could also watch something more cheerful on the TV downstairs... but I just want my house back. I want my sanity back. I'm going to avoid people who have respiratory problems in case they've been around someone infected from Mexico and so forth... and will be washing my hands more with this Swine Flu pandemic at hand. Now, that's real news that we should know about. I think water-boarding is torture. Torture doesn't have to mean possible death to be torture. But what's done is done, and our government has been slapped on the hands, and hopefully we can move on. I only wish mankind would stop thinking of the most horrible things to do to one another. Sometimes I think we'd be safer in the midst of wild animals from the sounds from the TV set spreading the news of anything that is awful ...what they exist upon.

I just 15 minutes turned to Tom and said: "You know, they have to have something to say all the time. They have to dig, dig, dig up all the news and in a way so that people are going to listen."
He says, "Fox News gives both sides. It's fair."
I say, "But... Who wants to know everything bad in the world. Just sit there and listen to everything that is bad that has happened ever and now and in the future what bad is going to happen and so much horrible stuff that we can't do anything about? What are we supposed to do with all this stuff? It's too much for me to hear. I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. Write to my senator to tell them our government shouldn't water-board any more? To call our representatives in Washington to tell them not to throw away any more of our tax dollars? I think they've heard enough. They are on overload as well. We are all on overload.

I say go to Facebook and play Jeweled Blitz. Go play your computer games.

If the gnats don't drive you nuts, GET OUTSIDE. Walk up a high hill and look across a valley.


The Dish Network

Then say, "God is in heaven, all's right with the world."

"Let me know, Lord, if there is something I can do and I'll do it." I can't go off in 360 different directions trying to answer the prayers of the world all by myself. I can't even try. I end up frustrated and glued to one spot in not knowing which of the 360 directions to go in first. I think it's best to be proactive, but await instructions from someone BIGGER than I am. As for any reader who doesn't believe in God... good luck. If there is no God, then it IS all up to you. I guess all I'm saying is God help us. I think if we do what we can in the now... within our realm of life... whatever we feel in our hearts must be done, that is God's way of guiding us. Or you can say the Force of life guiding us. There does seem to be a rhythm of life and a magnetism of things that bring the right people together to solve one problem at a time... one here one there one somewhere else... With the help of whatever the Universal force IS that makes the world turn in a place where all the forces to make life livable came together... WON'T that Universal force guide us in our own inimitable way? I think so... If I didn't think so, I'd lose the will to live.

THE "BEAK-BEAK" YEARS
Chapter One

For the last four years one could hear me call "Beak-Beak!" and a little chicken would run across the yard and follow me mostly into the house where I'd feed her her food supplements so she could live a mostly healthy and normal chicken-life.

As some of you already know, my little Aracauna chicken, CrossBeak, passed away last week. She had been getting weaker, and I more or less expected it, but except for her last day, she had seemed to perk up. Her last day was spent mostly cozying up to me on a cool windy but sunny day while I was weeding my cluttered round flower garden. She was mostly interested in insects I uncovered in the black soil when tracking the snake-like roots of the crabgrass that was taking over. ...But to no avail, for CrossBeak could never get worms or bugs with her crooked beak, and was the reason for almost four years... (or was it five... it seems like forever)... of supplemental feedings for this little survivor of a hen.

When I opened the coop that following day... a warm and sunny day... there she was, peacefully gone with no signs of distress. "Passed away," was a good way of putting it.

I felt a strange combination of grief and relief. These last four years have taught me in a small stupid way what an enormous challenge it must be for people who HAVE TO BE THERE for someone... for a person. A mother of a severely mentally and or physically challenged child, or someone caring for her spouse. I had unending freedoms compared... I know that. One could hardly compare, but I did in some cases. I'm very comfortable staying at home and not going on vacations. I feel that my home is a vacation place, and long to go nowhere else. However, it would have been nice for me to have visited my son's home while he was last in a state as close as Virginia, and now lives in Arizona. But for me to have gone to Virginia Beach would have meant being away for over 3 days, counting travel days, and I kind of gave that a point where Cross Beak couldn't be without me. I couldn't hire anyone or even leave Tom to be able to hand feed this little hen. It wasn't the full reason for this homebody to stay comfortably at home rather than to plan, pack clothes, get everything all set for my being away for half a week, battling traffic, and wondering if I'm going to be constipated and sleepless for those days. CrossBeak wasn't the reason for my hesitation on getting away, but she was that last straw... the tipping point where I'd deem it okay not to go, but to wait until my son; my daughter who is also in Virginia to visit here. They had been coming up regularly twice a year; and infrequently in between my son would visit on occasion when he was in a nearby marathon, or when drawn to this area because an old friend died.

But, saying to ANYBODY, I can't visit because 'I have this little hen who would probably die if I didn't give her supplemental feedings within 4 days' just wouldn't hack it in anyone's book. I can't say I wouldn't be offended myself if someone gave me that excuse. My mother did use her animals as an excuse to go back to Rhode Island as soon as possible after having visited me when she was the grandmother, and it was I who had the small children. I understood, but the grandchildren really didn't, and felt a bit estranged from their own grandmother. Whereas I live for my grandchildren... Well, I lived for them when they were small delights. Let's admit it, as they grow older, I'm not so important anymore. I'm hoping that doesn't happen, but it seems to be happening ever since each family's children reach school age. They don't visit as frequently, and as I'm growing older, it is just more difficult--with or without anything but age holding me back. Let's face it, if I go somewhere and can't get enough sleep, you may as well call me driving impaired when I leave to go home. I guess it's airline time when it comes to visiting further than 300 mile distances anymore.

However, along with the grief I felt at losing this little chicken, my mind has been chewing on the idea of the freedom I now have now that her life is no longer demanding my presence. Yes, I miss my little hen, but this morning I was thinking about how much money I spent on unsalted peanuts and sunflower hearts alone. If I had that four years worth of money spent, I'm sure I could get a discount round-trip flight to Virginia Beach. I can afford it regardless, and, though I hate air travel because of the constricts of it: not having my own car at the other end; the wait and the new safety precautions causing them to even inspect my sneakers for bombs; the cramped seating on flights, I'm thinking of taking a trip. So, I'm thinking of going,though I still have this basic fear of flying. After all, it's not like you could pull over to the closest cloud should something happen to the engine; or if a disgruntled passenger caused trouble; or if a baby just couldn't be comforted and cried for the whole time from one end to the other. But, I'll tough it out. Watch out, Virginia Beach... You may be getting a visit from Grandma!

[A note to August. After the Virginia Beach visit... especially if all goes well, I'll probably be tackling a further visit, though it will probably be fall by then. Please know you're welcome here. Maybe you'd like to take a break to a cooler place up here in Northeast Pennsylvania during your long hot 6 month summer.]

THE BI-ANNUAL TRIM


Shaggy Bear

The day before Bear was to have his spring shampoo and trim he got into something that smelled like a cow barn, therefore I didn't bother to wrestle to clean him. He isn't allowed on the bed, and the furniture is covered. So, I put up with the sweet rural smell, and the yesterday Tom took him to Rub-a-Dub-Dub where Beth, as scheduled, gave him the works.

Problem when he comes back is not the shampoo she uses on Bear, but his sense of well being as well as the itch of the close shorn hair. He seems more vulnerable and acts as different as he looks. He also itches, therefore scratches until neither he nor I can stand it, and for both of us, he gets a Benadryl capsule disguised in a piece of hot dog. By then it's bedtime anyway. Today, the day after, he is more comfortable in his own shorn skin, but still somewhat itchy. I took him up to the lake, and a swim helped, though he'll still get another anti-itch pill at bedtime. Then he'll be fine. He just turned 6 years old, so this is the way it always goes.

This time I just had to take a before and after picture.

Beth shears him like he's going to be shown at a dog show. He's handsome, and I took pictures yesterday as well as today, and bookended this blog. He was getting pretty shaggy this time. Yesterday's "after" pictures gave the impression of his still feeling vulnerable and uncomfortable. So I entered the picture I took after bringing him up to the lake for his swim. Now, once he does something funny, my handsome pup is ready for some more videos.



Svelte Pelt