I'm about to unload a little bit so bear with me. This is not a good day today. Coming back from the barn, I can now see my life without chickens in the future. Maretta is dying, her crop will not budge. The places on her side are still very scabby and this morning were bleeding, probably from feathers being pulled from them. If they weren't seeping a tiny bit, feathers would not be sticking to them. Mary Jo had a bloaty crop yesterday so I threw her in the hospital cage w/o food, put some copper sulfate in her water and this morning, she's better so thank GOD she's back with Atlas again. I just came back from putting Snow and Amanda's food and water back into their cages with them-they use those cheap double dog food bowls for their food/water, but Snow swims in hers so I cannot leave them in there in cold weather.
Tom is out of commission. He's also angry and depressed, used a word I've never heard come out of his mouth in almost 44 years this morning, and not fun to be around. I'm trying to finish a quilt project, help someone else by making more mug mats for a giveaway (that's done and ready to mail), trying not to let the dirty house get to me. Tom can't bend to do anything and he can't see dirt if he could. So, nasty jobs are left to me, yippee for me. We had to cancel the guys who were coming this part Tuesday to clean up around the property because we had to run to the ER, but we are rescheduling for next week. Tom won't say it, but I will...I'm getting this place ready to sell, that's the type of clean up I mean. But, I can't move until about 20 birds die, to put it bluntly. I can't sell a rooster and hens who hatched here and are 3 years old and not causing any real problems. I trust no one to give them the home they have here and frankly, though you'll think I'm nuts, I'd feel like I betrayed them if I did. Hector and Bash are both attached to me, you can see it in how the interact with me. Atlas is just too old and arthritic for anyone to want him, even if he did not carry a dwarf gene-I call him Old Flex and Step. I'm ready for the 5-hen flock and that's it.
And if my older son calls one more time to whine about his financial woes, I'm going to put him in his place. He makes 50K a year, has two dogs, no one to blame for his spending but himself and I think he owes nothing on his car. So, the issue is HIM, not his money. I do not want to hear that one more time from him. He doesn't like to be lectured, or what he perceives to be lecturing, so he'll storm off the phone in a huff and not call and that's fine with me. He can just suck it up and learn to manage his money better now that his skanky wife is not an excuse to spend. So there! I'm sure you would agree with me that he needs to start owning up to his choices in that arena.
Back to distracting myself with my quilt project, barring interruptions again....I see how people who have been married for over 40 years get divorced now. Not saying that's happening here-I adore my husband and he's a man of supreme character and loves me-but others who don't have the dedication to stick it out in the face of health issues of the spouse, with the mental and emotional drain they cause, would run for the hills.
