My favorite time of day

Morning. I'm the only one up. Well, besides the chickens. Even the dogs don't really get up, because they know I'm not the one that feeds them. I love the peacefulness of the farm in the morning. No TV sounds. No people talking. Only birds chirping and roosters crowing. In the bathroom, there was a moth fluttering on the inside of the window and a bird trying to catch it on the outside of the window. Both were highly agitated, not really understanding windows. I debated opening the window, but the outcome was uncertain; therefore, I left them to their game. I can be very productive at this time, having no distractions. Alternatively, I can simply enjoy the peace and quiet, reading a book, or, like today, blogging. I usually have something I would like to blog about in a day, but don't find the time to do it. *sigh* Here I sit, with ten minutes to blog, and, well, I blog about blogging. Hopeless.

A flock update. The 24 meat birds are now lunches and they are outside in their nice big pen. They eat lots and drinks lots of water. Mini-me and his two Americaunas and the 4 juvenile hens are doing fine in their new pen; the Americaunas have finally started laying again. Not overly prolific, approximately 1 egg from the two of them every other day or so, but it's a start. Mama's baby, the exotic that came with the meat birds, is also outside, but in a hospital cage because she's still too small to join an existing flock. We still have Blondie, the mean-but-beautiful rooster, but our friend has promised to pick him up. He can't wait; the hospital cage is way small for a rooster of his stature! Tonto's pen has been very calm and peaceful since he has been the only rooster. And they have been consistently laying 3 brown, 2 olive, and 1 white daily. All fine and happy.

Pig update. We moved Mohawk to a new pen, away from Mother. He was always so agitated, and was very thin, and kept 'biting the hand that fed him." Literally. He is much calmer now, and may gain a little weight. We need to butcher Pork Chop. Just gathering tools and getting up the nerve. *sigh*

Well, time to go to my appointment. Another day begins.

Too busy! I must prioritize!

Yes, I am "retired". Which means no 40-hour per week job. But it doesn't mean no work! And, yes, I live on the laid-back island of Hawai'i. However, sometimes the list of things to do becomes so long it overwhelms! That's when it's time to prioritize, stop procrastinating, and get some of those hated things off the d*** list!

For example, our taxes, both business and personal, were due in February. (Just like every other American.) We got an extension to August. Which is fast approaching. In one week, actually. This must move to the top of the list.

My box of car envelops was empty yesterday and I needed more. I know I have more, with my scrapbooking stuff. Most of which is heaped in the spare room, which now resembles a huge messy closet. While searching, a box of Mahjongg chips fell open all oven some stuff and the floor. I had to step on things to search through other things, etc. Never did find them. Cleaning that room and organizing that stuff has got to move to number 2 on the list. There are also over 100 bags waiting to be sewn in that room! And thousands of photos to scrapbook!

Because cleaning, straightening, and organizing are my least favorite things to do, it takes me 10 times longer than the average human to accomplish the tasks, if I ever finish at all. I tend to become easily distracted, thus the likelihood of not completing the task is high.

Wish me luck.....

My pet spider

I used to be afraid of spiders. A spider sighting would cause me to yell, "Pat!" and expect Pat to come running to deal with the thing, be it large or small. Well, since moving to Hawai'i, and especially to the Big Island, spiders have become my friends because of their natural pest-control attributes. The passing of a large wolf spider receives the same greeting as a mild-mannered gecko. I even have a pet spider that lives in the lamp by my bed. Well, I don't think it's the same spider it was originally. We are on about the third generation. Occasionally it disappears and then reappears, smaller. It lives in the lampshade. I just have to be a little careful when turning the lamp on or off. I used to be very irritated by the buzzing of the occasional fly in my bedroom at night. I would spend hours with the fly swatter trying to swat it, usually to no avail. Now, I just listen to the buzz, bemusedly, until it stops, accompanied by a small rattle. Looking over at my pet spider, he will have the fly in two of his eight arms, and he is sucking the life out of it. Easy to feed, no muss, no web, highly recommended as a pet.  Here's a photo of my pet:

Bad, Mohawk, Bad Piggy!

This morning, I walked up to the pig pen, leaned on the fence, said, "Hello, Mohawk!" to our boar, and.... he bit my finger! Hard enough to draw blood! I was angry! I spent the next few minutes berating him, telling him how bad he was. after awhile, I settled down, and I tried to hand him a mac nut. I said, "careful now, don't bite the hand..." He took it so gently, he dropped it on the ground after he got it out of my hand. Oops. I guess pigs are also sensitive.

The Tale of Two Floaties

In this story, the names have been changed to protect the pride of the participants.

I have hesitated to tell this story to protect my own pride. However, some stories beg to be told, eventually. What it boils down to is just this. I am forever grateful that I do not have a job where I am required to invade anyone's private actions, thoughts, or behaviors, or in any way humiliate them. Jobs like searching people, accompanying them for urine tests, etc. Anyway, now the story...

I have had stomach/bowel problems all my life. Unfortunately, as I age, they get worse. Sometimes, when I need to go, I mean "now!" Which can be really embarrassing, if I don't get to a Ladies' Room in time. So I know most public restrooms in town. Well, I had just driven into town, 1.5 hours, and stopped into a shop to buy some things. Well, the need hit me. There were signs EVERYWHERE that said "NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS". Yeh, I get it. But I have found that, sometimes, if you ask nicely, the 'no' can be an 'okay'. So I asked the nice lady at the counter if I could use the restroom, because it really was an emergency. She said, "Well, let me check. We were just talking about that." And she promptly got on her walkie-talkie and said, "Clovis, I have a customer here that needs to used the restroom. It's an emergency." Yes, walkie-talkie, not phone. Yes, loud, all could hear. When she heard no response, she tried again, a little louder, same phrase. Then, she got a response, "I'll send Johnnie up." I'm thinking, "huh? who's Johnnie?" Anyway, up comes Johnnie, and says, "Are you the customer that has to use the restroom?" And I answered, "Yes, please." After all, I was asking a favor, and I was in dire need. "Follow me," he says. And I dutifully follow. We go through the store and into a big back room. Over in the corner sits a....yes....a toilet. No partition, no screen, just bare toilet. He points, and I..... say, "Thank you." He leaves, closing the door. I walk over to the intended receptacle, and realize there is a woman doing laundry in the washer/dryer right next to the....toilet. Hmmmm. I say, "Um, excuse me, I'm going to used the facility...." And she replies, "Okay, I'll be out of here in a minute." (By now I realize they do not really understand the nature of bathroom emergencies, and I am willing my body not to release anything at all prematurely.) She finally left, and, feeling very exposed, I sat and did my business, as it were. When finished, I duly flushed. I held the handle down, but (OMG!) two little floaties didn't go down. Well, I tried to wait until the toilet stopped running to flush again, but it kept going and going, and I was impatient, so I just closed the lid and washed my hands in the little sink nearby and zoomed out. Well, standing outside the door to the big room was none other than laundry lady Clovis. She stopped me and said, "I'm sorry, but you have to go back in there with me and inspect the area." What??!!??
Which is what I said. "I have to WHAT?" And she explained that they closed their restroom to the public because customers had smeared feces on the walls. I was infuriated that she thought a was a feces-smearing type, but at the same time I thought, "Damn those floaties!" So in we marched, and, we looked in the pot together, and there they were, damning me, the two little floaties. She nodded at the handle, and watched as I properly flushed them down. And we had to wait while they sailed away to be sure they cleared the bend. She also made some comment about there being some spray for the smell somewhere on the counter, which I chose to ignore - they can install a fan.

Having completed my humiliation, I proudly walked out to the main store, completed my purchases, and left. At first, I just felt humiliated. Now I am mostly grateful that I don't have her job.