Monday, March 17, 2014

Rainy Days And Monday

It's St. Patrick's Day which means absolutely nothing to me although I'm pretty sure we've got a bit of the Irish in us and who doesn't? I know in my bones that I am a mutt, no need to get DNA tested, I feel the blood of many peoples swirling around in me.
And am glad for it.

But the earth is wearing its green and the rain still comes down.

It rained all night and continues this morning, the pattern of it rising and falling, dropping to a drizzle, then coming back stronger, louder, more insistent. The blackbirds trill, fussing from tree limbs at the squirrel who has made his way to the feeder and who busily eats their seeds, all of them undaunted by the rain.

Bold motherfucker. 

I got no sighting of the full moon last night but am wondering if its pull and tug is what is causing a bit of anxiety in me these last two days. I want to blame the moon. I want to blame anything that is temporary. I cannot go back to that. I simply cannot.

And no walk today to try and de-jitter. I have no plans for the day although I have to get out and find Gibson a birthday present soon. The child will be two on Thursday. I need to clean out the baby chicks' ice chest home. They twittered all night whether due to the storm or the moon or the fact that they are getting big and have had a taste of the outdoors, I do not know. I think I am going to name the biggest chick Katniss Everdeen for the main character in the Hunger Games trilogy. How corny is that? But I was so constantly listening to those books when we got the chicks that it seems fitting. And I believe that I shall name the tiniest chick Pretty Bird for my old childhood parakeet. With the big yellow ones being called Chi-Chi and Cha-Cha, that makes all but two named and we shall get around to that.
Or perhaps as they grow and I can observe their personalities more closely, those names will all change. And of course it doesn't really matter. They will not come when I call them by name. This is not the chicken's way. Or at least my chickens. Of the five hens we have now, I am the only one who knows all their names. They are all black but one and they all look different to me but no one else seems to be able to tell them apart. Not even Owen, which amazes me as he can identify all four Beatles and the Rolling Stones too. These chicks are far more diverse in looks, except for the yellow ones and so perhaps their names will be more easy to remember. We shall see. They look absurd right now, their feathers all coming in and sticking out at different angles. I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't move them out to the coop within the week. Mr. Moon spent over an hour yesterday, tying together wire to make it more critter-proof, to get it ready for the babies. They certainly can't live in an ice chest for much longer.

The train goes by, the sky lightens a bit, the bold motherfucker squirrel is still at the feeder although I have chased him off of it twice now.

I am thinking of the people in California right now where there was an earthquake this morning. I want them all to be safe. I am wondering how on earth you can ever be at peace, knowing that at any moment the very earth can shift beneath your feet.
Well, I suppose this is the essence of life- never knowing.

Let's all be safe. Let's all hang on for dear life.

Happy Monday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I think the baby chicks will be enough of a diversion to help keep you in good spirits. Just go out and pick one up. Can't hurt.

  2. Ms Moon, The earth is always shifting beneath my feet.

    And what is up with the squirrel population? Seriously, aren't they supposed to be, you know, squirrely
    and fearful?


  3. Bob- Ah well. The chickens do soothe. All of them.

    Yobobe- Mine too. But literally? I can live without. Good Lord! Our squirrels are just really bold. They're like Honey Badger- they don't give a shit.

  4. Do you ever read Dooce? She suffers from anxiety, and has written in the past that March is a terrible month for her. Every year. Her theory is the lengthening days do something bad to her brain. It passes, but March is difficult.
    In Tucson, we have round tailed ground squirrels, they look like tiny meerkats. This year has given us a bumper crop of the little buggers. That and lizards.

  5. Allison- I used to read Dooce a long time ago before her blog because one big product placement situation. Not that I judge her on that- I just don't enjoy it as much. So far March has been wonderful for me. I am definitely just going to blame the full moon and take note.
    Ground squirrels? Whoa! We seem to have a lot of lizards this year too.

  6. I'll take earthquakes over blizzards and hurricanes ANY DAY. Of course it's easy to say that when I didn't even feel the one this morning.

    Hi Ms. Moon! I'm clawing my way out of the anxiety/crazies today. FUCK YOU, BRAIN.

  7. My geese have names...Pim and Pom and Louie...Baby Huey was my 4th, she was killed by a little furry fucker(a weasel and an ermine were around that year..)really really hate them! It's f.f. time again , and we must be vigilant about closing the doors at night and repairing any slightest holes. Our last rooster was Dingleberry we didn't keep him because he was too mean to the hens! Our favorite hen was Henrietta, of course... and our first rooster was Angelo, we have had The Dusty Sisters(two dark grey darlings, Dishrag and Snowball, and our favorite rooster was Puttputt!

  8. Stephanie- I, too, get angry at my brain sometimes and it does no good whatsoever. I hope yours decided to behave. Mine mostly did.

    Big Mamabird- Those are some great names! We had to get rid of a rooster (chicken and dumplings!) because he was too mean. And aggressive towards humans. I don't regret that one bit.

  9. Happy St. Pat's day to you and the family. The green beer has been flowing in town. Rainy all day and the parades still continue. Hope that people make it home safely. Rain causes crazy shit to happy around here

  10. I'm with you on the Dooce thing, girl needs to make a living though but man, she's boring-assed now.
    That is one big squirrel! Our little squirrels here are tiny! Probably because they have it so rough with the weather. Anyway.
    Every time I go to California, I pray the plates don't shift while I'm there. I'd crap myself.

  11. Syd- I can't even imagine going to a St. Patrick's Day parade. Maybe something is wrong with me.

    heartinhand- We should be eating these damn squirrels. I swear.


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