Saturday, June 21, 2014
When I let the chickens out this morning, Miss Lucille was on the nest. She jumped out and left this behind. A lovely brown egg, not quite egg-shaped yet, but she is so very young.
I was surprised. I was delighted. I felt as if I had been given a gift and indeed, I had.
My yard is a veritable chicken run this morning. All fourteen of mine, both Elvis and Drogo crowing, as well as several of the neighbors' chickens, one of them a glossy black banty rooster with the prettiest tail feathers you ever did see, and he is crowing too.
I love it.
Buster and Dolly are winding down. Both blind, getting very deaf. I do not think they are enjoying their lives much at all anymore. Buster can hardly get down the steps to pee and frequently does not bother. His main delight in life appears to be eating Maurice's food. I do not think this is enough reason to live, quite frankly.
Dolly hasn't shown much interest in anything in quite awhile. She can still get around but barely.
I would be the world's biggest hypocrite if I pretended that any of this is making me sad but to be honest, it is becoming painful to watch. And how does one decide when it's time to take them for their final visit to the vet to be delivered of all pains and aches?
When that last bag of food is almost out? Oh my. That seems just completely unreasonable but there is a certain logic to it.
Jessie and Vergil are coming down next week to help Mr. Moon celebrate his birthday. I will let Jessie give me her council on the matter. The dogs have always loved her best and she, in turn, has loved them better than the rest of us.
I just checked the dog food supply. There's enough for at least several more months. Especially if Buster keeps eating Maurice's food.
I am most concerned with the issue of how to discuss this with Owen. I can understand why people tell their children that myth about Sparky going to a farm to live. So much better than, "Sorry, kid, those dogs were OLD and so we killed them."
I mean, on the face of it, it does sound so cruel.
When the opposite is the intention.
Ah well, all will be revealed. It is the solstice, summer begins today. I need to start moving, get the laundry going, hang things on the line.
My bosom itches. Such a delicate place to scratch.
The chickens are doing their own scratching, Maurice is stalking in the ferns. I dreamed again of two houses, one of which I needed to clean out. In my most recent dream, I did not despair about doing all this cleaning. I merely looked for giant black garbage bags to start throwing things in.
There was a huge amount of jewelry, none of which I was interested in. Someone made a display of it and it was nice and women were looking at it to buy. I didn't want a thing.
That's me today. I have work to do and I do not despair because I have hours and hours of a book to listen to and I can be as slow about it all as I want to and Mr. Moon just took the trash and the recycle and I love him for that.
Happy Solstice. Move slowly, drink lots of water. Stop frequently to look at the green and listen to the buzzing. Let your mind wander where it will. Delight in all of it that you can. See the gifts given as such. Marvel at them all and take note of shape, color, and texture. Do not despair.
All love...Ms. Moon