What just happened

It was only yesterday that Lauren was born. Well, 28 + years ago technically. She's my one and only. She loved anything and everything pink, believed in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy (until mom forgot to put money under her pillow, twice). Her imagination ran wild when playing with toys, esp Barbies and Polly Pockets. There was no doll or doll house that she could pass by. Loving, curious, smart and playful.......seems like just yesterday.

Pink walls, pink everything

Pink swimsuit, pink flip flops

Then, it happens. What we all think will never happen - as it just does not seem feasible to fathom it when they are growing up. They have a baby of their own. All that practicing with dolls, watching mom do all the things for so many years, then BAM! A baby of her own.

Brooks

It happened on Oct 14, 2020 all while Covid would not allow anyone in the hospital but her and her husband, Ryan. As I sat at the kitchen table that special night, the most special day in the life of my daughter, I cried. I wasn't there to help her, to be with her, or to support her by her side. I was home crying at the kitchen table, with David staring across from me knowing he could not console me. 

Happily, Lauren and Ryan had checked into the hospital the night before her scheduled induction on Oct 14th. But no induction would be needed, as Lauren had her bouncing baby boy by the next day at 11:30 am (ish). It's almost like you're hit in the face with a frying pan after labor. What just happened?  Here, here's your newborn child. His name would be Brooks Graves Cannon. He's all yours to keep alive and oh yeah, here's a crash course on how to do it. This happened while the rest of the world, friends and family were Covid homebound. 

One happy mama

Immediately, Lauren and Ryan were smitten and in love. It's a new love. One that we do not feel until a baby is placed in our arms to keep forever and ever. They were, as all new parents are, forever changed. After all the visits to her regular OB doctor, then the fetal specialist, the fetal MRI, the potential issues for little Brooks, then the amnio, the gestational diabetes, and the pregnancy anemia. All that caused Lauren to deem "her body an unsafe place for a child" all vanished on his Birth Day. The tears, fears and concerns all washed away with a miracle baby in her arms. Truly, every baby is a miracle and blessing from God. Brooks is the miracle given to Lauren and Ryan, and after the trials and tribulations to get here, he's arrived safely. And he's healthy, happy and here. What a blessing and we all were most grateful that everyone is okay. God is good. All those prayers answered. The grace bestowed upon Brooks is something I can't wait to tell God "thank you" for - in spirit and soul. When I step off the curb and head up to chitty chat with God, that's the first thing that I plan on saying. Thank you for allowing Brooks to be Brooks - and for his safe arrival. 

And one proud dad

Now what, you ask. The pan in the face at the hospital hits you again once you arrive home. All this recovery from the shock and awe and the recovery from the physical side of it comes into play. All while Ryan is trying to do everything in the periphery. The learning curve for a first newborn is a steep hill to climb. Within the week, they were in the usual routine: feed, burp, change diaper, repeat. Sleep is in there, too, but primarily for Brooks. Mom and Dad are learning to function on mere hours of sleep and rest. 

Who needs sleep when you can stare
at his cute little self

As we speak, the breast pumping, bottle making/cleaning, diaper changing, baby laundry plus the other myriad of things are all happening. I've been blessed to have spent the night several times and have Brooks ALL to myself. All night, and yes, that's okay. Tonight is David's opportunity to spend the night with Brooks, and then tomorrow I go back for a 3 day visit (while Ryan heads back to work) and spend time with Brooks - but even more importantly - with Lauren. My baby.

Lauren and Ryan will catch up on sleep when Brooks is about 2 years old. But just like all parents, we adapt and move forward knowing that sacrifice is the name of the game. It's a parent's favorite game - sacrifice for the one we love the most. Our child. 

David made him his first cake

Brooks is 0 years old, 0 months old and loved from a place of love that cannot be described with words. Ryan and Lauren look into his eyes with little hearts in their eyes. Their souls are beaming with gratitude for this journey, and what it's taught them. They've become stronger, more bonded and learning to recognize the importance of what each of them brings to the table. They do things differently to get to the same end results. They do things the same in some ways. Yet, the skills and efforts they put forward work in unison to grow their family. One day at a time. One hour at a time right now, actually.

What love looks like

This journey may sound a lot like your own journey - or that of a friend or family member. We are all in it together, and this in turn bonds all of us. The journey of raising a child has just begun for Lauren and Ryan, as Brooks is not yet 2 weeks old. He's new like a shiny penny with the potential of becoming anything he desires to be. To live in a free country, to feel safe, to be loved, with a roof over our heads and food to eat - Brooks has the world at his fingertips and his parents eyes to gaze lovingly in. He's busy memorizing every line on their face right now. And they are absorbing every moment. 

I don't think I've ever seen you happier

To my sweet Lauren, you do hard things and show it's possible to move through them with grace. Your instinctual mothering to Brooks will keep him safe and sound, and loved to the moon and back. Keep being you. To my son-in-law Ryan, you ooze fatherhood from every pore of your being. Keep being you. Because if you're not you, whose going to be you. You're leaving the yesterday behind, to be right where you were meant to be. With Brooks in your arms. 

Your angel has arrived

As Ryan and Lauren shine their bright lights on their precious baby, I'm over here beaming as a new Nana. I've got his race car bed ready, but first, bottles and breastmilk is on the agenda. I'm in no hurry, as every moment is a memory to make. It's all about staring in his eyes right now. Smiling and cooing, knowing that I'm now "that Nana". Finally (just kidding about the finally, Lauren. I just love to use the word finally). It's become one of our keywords in life......finally. 

And so it begins......

So as one chapter closes in my book, another opens in Lauren and Ryan's. Once a child is born, it's very quickly forgotten what it was like before this blessed event, as everything has shifted in the best way possible. Sleep, what was that? Having a lazy Sunday, don't remember that either. Yet somehow, there's nothing we'd rather do than raise a child all our own. It is the greatest gift of all - with the exception of becoming a Nana, of course. That is right up there with birthing my own sweet Lauren. I didn't think an event could feel that same way, but quickly found out that a grand child is the way to go, the whole time. 

 Let's do this,

Cyndi

 

What a difference a day makes

Where do I start

When I was informed I had a blood cancer, my initial reaction was the intense desire to minimize everything I owned. Literally everything. In my mind, I was planning how I would do that, where I would start, and was excited about the thought of ridding myself of so many things I didn't need. If you recall, I've posted as far back as 2017 and 2018 on resizing, right-sizing, minimizing and death cleaning, among many other similar words that were all saying the same thing:  I'm trying to get my $h!t together or better yet, get it gone. Seems this is a life-long chore that ebbs and flows for me. 

Why? Mostly because having less tends to bring me peace, or with time, it generally brings me a sense of peace. So after realizing that I don't need to take my belongings down to a "I can pack my things in a car and move in 30 minutes" kind-of-thing, I gave myself permission to marinate on what it is that I'm trying to accomplish. I don't need to set that minimalist goal of being able to move all my belongings in a car, in one trip, in 30 minutes. That's not who I am. Never say never, but it's not who I am at this time in my life. 

So who am I now?

I hover around the train station of Go, Man, Go which is next door to Let Go and Let God which happens to be across the street from the corner of Self Healer St and Working on Myself Lane. I'm just a girl, owning her story and loving herself through it. Easier said than done. 

Ironically, a large part of my thoughts for these last few years have been how to have less. I'm an expert at filling pasture with animals, putting cars in the garage and having too many sheets for the number of beds in the house (which I happened to blog about already). I ebb and I flow. Which, by the way, I never know whether the ebb is more and the flow is less. Or is the ebb a good thing, and the flow is the bad thing. I don't know, but I feel my life ebbing and flowing. Up and down, 3 steps back and 1 forward. Going backwards is how I move forward (blogged about that too). This is how I live my life. Somehow, it's an evolution, just like the world. Just like us, evolving. Who am I is ever changing, as I imagine it is for most of us. I'm finding it's not just about right-sizing physical and material things, but also letting go of ideals, activities, and projects that do not serve us any longer. 

Soul searcher

While doing one of my favorite things, listening to an audio book (which happened to be The Minimalist Home by Joshua Becker) I soon realized I had started it awhile back and not finished it for a long time. It was time to hit Play again. To summarize in mathematical equation form: This audio book + the recent life experiences = minimize and right-size to a newer level. This book reminded me of all the things we know:  Our things own us and our time. The less we have, the more we can pursue our purpose and passions. Less is more. It's so true, yet human nature and society creates an environment of "you should have more". Luckily, my last Podcast of A New Earth, by Eckhart Tolle and Oprah has brought about awareness to understand what it is I'm doing, then acknowledge it, and act upon it should I desire to. The verbiage is not to worry about it, but rather either 1) Act on it, or 2) Let go of the thought. I decided to act on it. I'd like to tell you that this snowball effect was my idea completely, but no. It all started with the sad duck story (i.e dogs love ducks), and that allowed the door to open for this entire shift to take place. One thing led to another, which then led to another and so on, and so on..... 

My ducks are not in a row

I miss the ducks. I miss the beauty of the ducks on the pond. I miss the attraction that the ducks had regarding other bird wildlife at the pond. Yet, I'm happy to report the ducks are doing well and being spoiled elsewhere. I happen to know this because the quirky couple who has them, contacted me regarding buying my goats. Insert avalanche effect here. Turns out Billy and June (may or may not be the name of the quirky couple) wanted to buy our 3 goats. They have boy goats, and need girl goats to have baby goats. I initially turned them away and said no. Then, I said they could have 1 of my goats, and then I realized that my trio could never be separated from each other, so they would need to go as a group of 3. 

I've goat to think about this

After mulling this over, I came to the conclusion that Chia, Petunia and Dottie might enjoy free ranging on their property, and be with boy goats and have babies of their own. It didn't sound all bad. The only bad part was not having them here anymore. The Sheriff said it would be my decision, and he would agree with whatever I decided. After much thought, I let Billy know that he could buy my 3 goats. Once again, they made the hour drive to Gunter, but this time to get goats. 

It was actually good to see them! They told us how the ducks were doing. They told us how they will keep the goats together, and how their grandchildren would love on them. I bought their story, and we loaded the 3 goats up and I watched them drive away. Together, Thank you Lord. I petted Dottie just before they pulled away and told her I would always love her. She's my heart. My special girl. I think of her, and had even secretly took a few pics the night before she was to leave. I contemplated several times to reverse my decision. But I held true, and let her go. Yes, I cried when they left, and David let me put my head on his shoulder. It felt right, but it just hurt my heart. That couple now has 12 ducks and 3 goats whom they will enjoy and love, hopefully just as I did. That was by far the hardest "letting go" moment I've had (Cricket and Bandit are a close second). 

She's going to make a sweet mama one day.

My little pink-nosed girl.

Sniffle sniffle. There's just certain animals that may not be meant to stay, and pass through instead. She's my favorite passer-thru, and as sad as I am about her leaving, I'm happy for having had this experience of seeing her be born, raising her, and finding her a home where she will continue her goat journey and become a mama herself. The Sheriff always said No Goats, yet having experienced them is a joy that I keep as a special treasure in my heart of hearts. A memory in my head that no one can take away. Love you sweet girl.

Moving Forward

As I'm going through motions that seem to be coming from outside my own jurisdiction and control, I realize that the story of my life unfolds on it's own. Somehow I feel like I'm making decisions in my life, but on the other hand, I feel as if it's a current I'm caught in and it all just somehow happens. I mean, Billy and June just show up, as if out of no where, like they are supposed to be here. Odd how life is. We are swept up in our own current. Simply a drop in a big ole ocean, floating along. The ebbing and flowing continues. 

As does the continuum of my treatment(s). It's like clockwork. I go to the oncologist, labs are drawn, and the blood letting continues. The life saving treatment of blood being taken out of my body still amazes me. They have increased my blood thinners from not only Eliquis but also in addition, a daily aspirin. God forbid I fall and hit my head. This is all so people with PV do not have a stroke, heart attack or blood clot. I go every month right now for this fun. And as sarcastic as that sounds, I'm most grateful for it. This new life I'm leading is taking me to new places. My daily decisions, my outlook, and how I chose to be. I've plateaued to a peaceful place of acceptance and understanding. Things that used to seem so important aren't. All the outside noise is processed differently. The trees, grass and landscape is so very bright, like someone shining a glistening light on everything in nature. And when I say "How can I help you" at work.....I really mean it. So grateful to be there. 

Wait, there's more changes

Yep. I'm making personal, farm and house changes. I resigned from the Celina advisory library board after 5 years of service. I'm selling the Honda Ruckus scooter that I've coveted. I'm right-sizing animals in hopes that I will be living longer than those with us now. I'm leaving pastures empty. I'm cleaning out spaces in the house, garage and barn to discard and donate things that are taking up not only physical space, but causing visual distractions. I cleaned out one closet and left it mostly empty because it represented my freedom. The open space was freeing. I've lived my whole life thinking I need to fill these spaces. It feels so good to look in that closet and see freedom. 

I have so much farther to go, yet every minute I work on this minimization effort is a minute someone else won't have to. I absolutely love having less. One thing I know for sure is that I have a stopping point. I've not hardly reached it, but I know I want to live a right-sized lifestyle that's not extreme. I'm not ridding myself of everything by any means. I'm just freeing up space for future opportunities that are coming my way. I don't know what they are. But here's hoping I'll be ready. 

Sharing is caring

My sweet silkie Frankie (who I thought was a rooster when she first arrived here) has turned out to be the best silkie mama. I need to brag on her, as she's an example of the most loyal mama chicken we've had. 

Frankie with her babies 💕

Peek a boo

On the chillier days lately, when Frankie is out free ranging with her chicks and they are cold, she just honkers down right where she's at and they crawl inside her warm feathers. Heads sticking out. She makes sure they are safe and warm, then they go about their way. Faithful and loyal. 

Will there be more?

After 25 silkie chicks hatched over this past month, and those chicks were sold, bartered and given away to friends, we have made the executive decision to give Post (silkie rooster) and one of the Dorothy's (adult silkie mama) to friends of ours. They were ecstatic to acquire this couple, as they too, look forward to having silkie chicks of their own. And believe you me, Post will see to that. We kept 3 of the silkie chicks as our own, so technically still have 6 silkies as we did before. Oh, and we gifted one of the other Dorothy's to a neighbor down the road. Chicken math tells me that 6 + 25 - 13 - 3 - 3 - 2 - 1 - 2 - 1 - 1 = 6 again. Just happens to be a different combination of 6, with Frankie, Chompchi and Dark Dorothy still with us (along with the 3 silkie chicks). They all hang out with the 6 Frizzles, as they are similar in size and less likely to be picked on. We even fenced the 12 of them an area where the big girls can't get to them and be bossy. Those mean big girls. 

Frankie, Dorothy and the 3 chicks.
Chompchi not pictured here.

The 6 Frizzles have settled in nicely.

So as the 12 small girls have settled into a safe space for themselves, they are thriving and enjoying their own little life. The big girls are busy laying eggs and free ranging (and asking for treats). The sheep are doing well, the 3 mini horses are getting their winter coats, as are the donkeys. It seems quieter than usual, but that's all about to change next week when Brooks arrives on Wednesday. Maybe all this minimizing/right-sizing is really just Nana nesting. Grandmas nest, too. I'm not exactly sure what this next season of life holds, but I have a feeling it will include holding a precious baby boy. 

I just wanna apologize to the people I called old at 60 when I was 40. The audacity. With 60 on my heals, it sure feels good. Come on social security. 

Sometimes following my heart means losing my mind. I'm all in. I've quoted Glennon Doyle (Untamed) before, but it's speaking loudly to me these days: "Your job, throughout your entire life, is to disappoint as many people as it takes to avoid disappointing yourself" Amen, my sister. I can, cause that's my business. 

Cyndi, whose wearing her sassy pants tonight, cause that's my business (Thank you for teaching me, Tabitha Brown.)

How the cluck are you

 I didn't come this far to only come this far

As we close Blood Cancer Awareness month, I am reminded that most everyone I come into contact with, including myself, were/are not aware of polycythemia vera. I've lived a whole almost-57 years and never heard of it. I went to nursing school, and still, nothing. And here I am living it. It's truly a lived experience for me, learning as I go and making my way through the initial stages of a diagnosis of PV. As cancer touches most every one of our lives in some way, shape or form, I've also noticed how cancer muscles in on all aspects of our lives. It creeps in and makes itself at home, affecting each person differently. We each get to determine how we now want to view our lives, how we wish to live our lives with cancer, and most definitely for me nurtured the positivity in my own life. 

Myeloproliferative Neoplasm is not a common term, nor well understood even by those who are diagnosed with it. I wade through Facebook support groups, doctor appts and conversations with others like I'm talking about a piece of rock I recently found while on Mars. It's just not very relatable. MPN is in the bone marrow and blood so it's not recognizable upon seeing someone who has it. It's very well hidden, as are the symptoms. If I never spoke of my symptoms, most would never know I have any. In the book I listened to recently, The Traveler's Gift, one of the places the main character travels back in time to see is Anne Frank. In the book, this man's conversation with Anne Frank was trying to understand how she and her family live life in hiding- and what it's like. Anne Frank told this man, the key is to not complain. The take away was this: Choosing not to complain: It's a mindset, a choice that's made, a conscious decision to not complain. That was Anne Frank. In all the difficulty, hardships and trials of her (and many other's) life, Anne choose not to complain. That was inspiring beyond words. How did this young women, in such a difficult situation choose to not complain. Her mental strength, her courage and wisdom was beyond her young years. And still today, she's teaching others. I'm proud to carry her name, as my own middle name. I, too, want to be an Anne Frank.  

MPN's are not something I expect anyone "to get" or understand. As I, myself, am still navigating these waters and imagine I will be for some time. My understanding is if you start to get a handle on it, the progression of PV keeps change as a constant (treatment, symptoms, etc). I've seen a handful of webinar's on MPN/PV and it's mind boggling the research that still needs to be done. Having a rare blood cancer does not lend itself to a lot of research money being used on it, as there's just not enough awareness of it and not a large population of people who have it (compared to most cancers). 

One thing I know for sure is my own experience with it. Looking back, I can see my lab work over the last year reflected PV. My hematologist oncologist saw this train coming as well. There were discussions and evaluations. Hind sight is 20/20, and now I see all the signs that were pointing towards PV Road. Interestingly, it's when a doctor officially stamps it as such, that it gets real, real fast. Then and only then did I start riding the PV train. First stop? The reality hits. Second stop? So many questions. Third stop? Start treatments. Fourth stop? Deciding how I want to live my life now. Why should it be different, one might ask. I mean, I'm terminal anyway, as we all are. My expiration date just moved up a little, that's all. But that reality for me changes my lens from which I see, and I now see things brighter and clearer. I'm grateful for each and every day in a new way that I wasn't before. I don't feel the need to complain. I feel the need to live.

Recently, Lauren emailed me and asked me how I was doing. My response was: 

My first MPN Awareness Day, along with my first Blood Cancer awareness month has been a eye-opener. It helps make everything "more real". It always seems like others have these things going on - not me (us). Then, a record scratch noise happens and the realization of it all comes barreling in. How am I feeling? Elated that there's information out there and I have access to it. Sad because it's happening. Happy because I have great health care. Frustrated because my body feels different sometimes. Grateful for this gift of cancer to teach me many lessons in life. Shocked because it actually takes awhile to truly settle in. Content because I know what I have now. Unsure because I have many questions unanswered. Satisfied, as I feel happy in the life I am privileged to lead. 

There's every emotion pouring through my body. Mostly, gratitude. I've moved past the initial sticker shock and bought the car. Now, I'm driving it. Where am I going? Not even I know. But my hematologist oncologist told me one thing before I left his office one day: Go live your life. Thank you, Doctor, I think I will. Sound advice. 

I will see my hematologist again tomorrow for a monthly lab check - and talk to the doctor on this particular visit. If my numbers reflect the need, another phlebotomy will be completed. It will be my third one (if needed), and thus far has not been an issue to have one. It's very similar to giving blood at a blood bank, except it's a life-saving tool for the patient rather than the receiver. It's all so interesting. I have so much more to learn in regards to this thing called PV. 

Symptoms of PV, which I'll address on
another blog one day, and which ones I have.

 

So I've been living life out here

This feisty girl is enjoying herself. I'm cycling/biking to work a couple of times a week. As Tabitha  Brown says, I can because it's my business. I run, I walk, I farm, I Go, Man, Go. I'm not looking behind me, but ahead. I don't want to argue about something old. I don't want to argue at all. I want to smile, have a dance party in the barn and be with my family. I have a new attitude about my job, and immense gratitude for it. I enjoy answering the phone as a Triage Nurse "How can I help you today?". What a privilege. I'm about to be a new grandma and picked out my grandma name (Nana). Little Brooks will be all over this blog with my chickens, horses, donkeys, goats, dogs, cats and sheep. Just living my little life. 

Brooks is her pumpkin right now.

You left out ducks though

I did. It's with heavy hearts that we made the decision to share our ducks with a kind and quirky couple from Ivanhoe (out by Bonham). They too have a pond. They now have 12 ducks, 11 white and 1 black. I now have peace of mind when I lay my head down on my pillow (new Zoey pillow, but the way) that Marley and Lucy are not having one for a snack. It was awful having one of your animals get another one of your animals. Something had to give. But I have to tell you something else. Ever since we re-homed our Duck Dozen, ALL the other bird wildlife that was visiting the farm's pond has disappeared. No egrets or cow birds. Our ducks were their welcome sign, and now that's gone. The only thing on Duck Island is lots of turtles sunning. Weird how bird life is. Maybe the wild birds will return. I certainly learned something new about that situation. And I also know that quirky couple probably feels that we are equally quirky. We are. Love that.

Fo Shrizzle My Frizzle

After a new purchase of an iPhone (thank you, pond incident #2) I have some photos to share of my new Frizzles. Close your eyes and imagine this: A chicken who stuck its little toe in an electric socket and lived to tell about it. That's what a Frizzle chicken looks like. I now have 6 of them (Thank you, Chicken Lady, Colleen in Van Alstyne). After our barter session, she has 13 silkie chicks and I have 6 Frizzles. 

3 white and 3 black, all without
names right now.

They look like they need a good brushing,
but no.

Trickery

Once upon a time, a farmer thought it would be a good idea to get his ducks off the pond using a rope. He asked the lady farmer to hold one side of the rope, and he'd hold the other side of the rope, and together they would stand across the pond from each other and drag the rope along the top of the water to scare the ducks off the pond. This idea was genius until the rope was actually too short and someone ended up in the pond. Luckily, the ducks were scared off the pond, and corralled to a corner of the pasture and shuffled into a crate strategically placed there in hopes this rope trick would work. As the farmer was screaming, "don't let the ducks get by you!" and each farmer was pushing them into the crate.....one duck got by the farmer and back into the pond. 11 ducks in a crate and 1 in the pond again. Not The End.

Let's just say that 2 things got away in that Pond Incident. An iPhone in the pocket of the lady farmer and one duck. The story continues......

Once upon the next day, a farmer got in his kayak and asked his lady farmer to carry a net onshore. After the farmer diligently paddled for 1 hour in circles chasing a duck on the water til it was tired, the lady farmer caught the duck on land in the net. Finally, The End after this last duck was caught, and after a visit to the AT&T Store.

How the farmers looked afterwards....

Right-sizing feels right

Stay with me now. I've learned there's grief in transitions, even when they are good. There are a few on the horizon. I don't exactly know what's driving this, but it feels like my intuition is. So I'm going to go with it. I find it hard to even type this actually, but the truth of the matter is: The Sheriff was right. 

There, it's out there. The Sheriff's rule of no goats or roosters rule is going to stand. Now, how this all shakes out is going down this week. I need a little more time to iron out the details, but will get back to you very soon with the deets. Stay tuned.....

If anybody needs me, I'll be keeping it down while you're trying to sleep,

Cyndi

I can't care about everything

Or can I. It sounds like such a drastic statement. Can you hear me ugly-crying it, "I can't (sob sob) care about everything" (sob sob). Seems this is an appropriate theme for 2020, and unfortunately could roll into 2021. Just the fact that we have a theme, or make up themes for a year like 2020, speaks volumes. I can't remember ever theming a year. Weird. It's like a man in short-shorts. Weird. And kinda sad.

Sign of the times

Switcheroo

Let's talk all things ducks. It wasn't all that long ago that we decided a duck island was needed. The thinking behind this idea was to give the ducks a safe place to relax, in the middle of the pond, and maybe even put their food out there so the sheep will quit trying to eat it. After spending some time with Google, we decided on an easy peasy low-budget hand-spun option. 

A crane and a turtle like it

The construction consisted of netting, with plastic tubing filled with empty Sprite Zero plastic bottles and zip ties to bring it all together. There are likely a few other ingredients, but you get the idea. We used a plastic chain locked to a cinder block to anchor it in the middle of the pond. David delivered the new island using his kayak. Surprisingly, the kayak did well with both him - and the cinder block- in it. Nice work, Honey! 

No thanks, said all the ducks

Duck That

The placement was primo, the size was perfect, and the anticipation of the ducks having 'a place of their own" was comforting. The ducks answered back with a resounding:  not working for me. 

Come on, please. Just hop up on it and try it? No. Okay, now we placed some duck food up there. How about now? No. This went on for days. Surely, they will change their mind and see all their friends getting up there.....the turtles, egrets, even random little fishies accidentally flipping up onto it. It's about this time you're so glad that you did not spend 40 hours and $400.00 making the fancy floating duck house/island. Let's just say that the wildlife is loving this new island attraction. It's a great fishing dock for the egrets and sunning station for the turtles. You're welcome. 

Plenty of other potential island visitors around here

Fowl Play

I'd like to tell you this duck story has a happy ending, but that's simply just not the case. Imagine a dream sequence where I previously blogged about a "duck incident" and a duck was irreparably hurt. At the time, we did not know why or how that happened, but only that a storm had come through, and a result was a duck attack. Fast forward to Wednesday evening and another duck attack. There was no storm - and no question about what happened this time. The answer? Marley. Straight up, it was a Marley attack to the most vulnerable creature down there, an innocent duck. Shock and dismay for us and the duck, and anger and discipline for Marley. What prompted her to do this? We all know the sad news: Once a dog taste fowl, they will do it again, and again, and again. 

Now what. You've bought those light up tweezers where the light is powerful enough to illuminate every single unwanted hair......and then learn that the tweezers are too blunt to grasp a single one. What now. Marley guards the sheep like Spiderman climbs buildings. It's what she does. And this is all after we have the dog's underground fence placed there, where the sheep are happily stationed and sheltered, where the pond is for the ducks, and where changes are going to have to take place. Just unfortunate. 

I will deal with you later 

No simple time-out, no easy answer, and no way to leave things as they once were. Somethings gotta give. I could go through all the usual over-explaining of the scenarios but your probably tired of that. I'm tired of that. The ducks may have to be moved and that's the saddest thing of all. The pond is their spot, therefore moving them makes no sense at all. 

Back this train up. The sheep and guard pups need to be in that pasture because it serves them best. It just so happens to be in the same area of the pond - with ducks. Yet, what if I moved the sheep and guard pups to a neighboring pasture and re-did the underground fence? Lots of What If's. I'll investigate each avenue, and keep you posted on how it all shakes out. Keep your webbed feet crossed for now, while we get it all settled and minimize the WTF's that may fly out of our mouths. The ducks are a part of the farm and I really do not want to have to sell them. I promised them a good life, and Marley is not apart of that for them. Change is brewing.....

Chickenaholic

As a chickenaholic on the road to recovery, my wild heart has to be tamed at times when it comes to chickens. I want all the chickens in the world. All of them, please. They make me so happy. Luckily, I married a man who says things like '40 chickens is ok' and 'yes, you can have more chickens'. He's eggstraordinary and plays along with my chicken mischief. Let's do some recapping........

The 4 Ideal 236's are stunning!

 

These 4 teenagers are growing up
and finding their place in the flock.

So these 4 girls have recently transitioned to the barn for roosting at night. That means we only have 3 teenagers left to get into the barn (at night) to roost with the rest of the flock. For now, we have their temporary coop this close to the barn, moving it inch by inch closer. Ultimately, they will be in there with the rest of the flock. They need a little more time. 

Weird things chicken people do

I would say one of the weirdest things this Chicken Lady does is move around my silkie chickens. I cannot for the life of me get them settled. I set up a secured fenced area for them here, then move it over there. Why? Because the sun is too hot. Now the north wind is blowing, and I need to get them in a better spot. Wait, they are sitting on a clutch of eggs and I need to get them settled in a better place for having their babies. Uh oh, their babies have hatched and I need a new setup for them. Welcome to my brain. It's crowded and busy in there. I feel like no one understands me the way that Tractor Supply does. They have everything I need to keep this chaotic chicken craze of mine under control. 

Frankie and Dorothy with some of their chicks

Broody Butt

Chopchi is the most broodiest of all. That girl can sit on eggs til forever. She has 5 or 6 chicks of her own that have hatched, and still have a few more eggs under her forthcoming. I meant to take a picture of her to show you, but something terrible happened to my phone this weekend, and let's just say a visit to AT&T is warranted today. 

All Dark Dorothy and Light Dorothy's eggs have all hatched, as have Frankie's. We have silkie chicks of all colors. These 3 mamas do not have any more eggs to lay on, and are now raising their chicks very well. With around 22 silkie chicks around here needing new homes, my next post will document how I was able to decrease them by 16 chicks in a matter of hours. 

The Flock

The flock as a whole is doing very well. I have several old girls, some mid-aged, many eggs layers, a number of teenagers coming of age and then the silkies. All in all, we are doing well. We lost a hand full of silkie chicks as they all started hatching and discombobulation ensues. Some chicks just are not destined to survive. The fact that that little tiny chick can get out of that egg is beyond me. And on top of that, those silkie eggs are super tiny and those little chicks are super super tiny. Their survival rate is never 100%, but my heart hurts every time one of them doesn't make it. It's like they chip away at my heart piece by piece each time there's a loss. Chicken loss = Piece of my heart 💔 It's truly my kryptonite. Farm animal loss is my kryptonite. It's the reason that if there's ever a day I have no animals, would be my only solace. No more loss. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too fragile for all this. Then, I perk up, find my can of SuckIt Up and along with my Big Girl Panties......I move forward. With just a little less of my heart. And that's okay, it's a fair trade for all the joy I derive from my farm peeps.

They greet me at my front door

Laying together, even when other 
laying spots are open.

What I find most interesting is seeing Instagram pages of so many chicken lady's. They are everywhere. They are my people. I love looking at their chickens, and seeing how much they love them. 

My chickens make me smile.
Ginger, RIP

I met a wonderful new chicken lady this weekend, and her name is Colleen. She lives in Van Alstyne and raises chickens of all sorts (buys/sells them). I had the pleasure of finding her off CraigsList, and love meeting new and interesting people that way. Let's just say the old adage of bartering is still live and well in the country. 

Nincompoop, word of the day (yesterday)

I'll close this blog a little early and pick up on it after I purchase a new phone that has the rest of my photos somewhere in a cloud in the sky. Another pond incident happened and when I went in the pond......so did my phone. Yes, David reminded me of the 5 foot long snake he saw on the bank AFTER I got out of the pond. Envision big bug eyes when he told me that. 

I have so much more to write, but unfortunelty, those words will remain in this crazy brain of mine until next time. 

Over all, all's well. Life = hiccups. The bumpy ride makes it more exciting. 

Cyndi

How many crosswalks

That's how they get you

So you didn't click on the proper square(s) with the crosswalks. Try again. How about traffic lights? Proving myself online is harder than it is in person. Proving I'm not a robo-something online is difficult at times. I have some good news though. I got a telemarking call the other day and this happened:

It even told me so

I'm starting to think this electronic and security thing is beginning to swing my way - alerting me to whose at the other end of this call. You not so tricky now, are you. Notice the NY number above? That's David upstairs, trying to Zoom me while I'm downstairs. I didn't recognize his Zoom attempt and didn't answer, despite the fact he's upstairs yelling "Answer the phone!"  Please tell me this happens in your house, too.


You just did things all week

I'm a big fan of doing things. Whether it's 5 am and dark or 2 pm and hot. Let's do things. David introduced me to the song, "I Gotta Go" by Robert Earl King (his secret man crush).  The line "wasting time standing here, I gotta go" is a classic, and highly applicable in my life. People say, Don't you get your fill of thing-doing from M-F at work? or I don't understand why you do things on the weekends, when you just did things all week.

I can always get more money, but I can't get more time. So I gotta go - do things. There's never a shortage of things to do around here. I even wear The Littles (Maybe and Sugar) out, who, come Monday, are happy to see me off to work. Let's see........what are we doing these days......


I'm willing to wait for it

Remember last blog when the 3 silkies mamas were sitting and sitting on their eggs? I had estimated that by the end of August that chicks would hatch. And hatch they did.

Just know that this was around Aug 30th and the hatching hasn't stopped. I counted 18 silkie chicks today with more eggs in-waiting. We had to move them from the upstairs part of the coop, to downstairs where there is more room for them. They are the tiniest creatures when they come out of those tiny eggs. They are wet, alive, fast-moving and flapping their microscopic wings as soon as they are out of their shell.  Every time one of these chicks hatch, it plows up new furrows in my little farm heart. Some are black, grey, lavender, and all colors in between. All miracles, every time.

They are beginning to make their way out of the safety of the coop, esp if I sprinkle oats out for them. Even those tiny babies are eating whatever their mamas eat. I have them confined with chicken wire around their coop while they grow a little bigger. Post is in there with them, too, and he does well with them all. He's the only rooster we've kept/had - but he's a good one. He's non-aggressive to everyone, and loves his girls. Another day, another chick (or two).

Good question

What am I going to do with them? I'm thinking of painting a homemade sign that goes something like "Chicks Far Sale" or "Tiny Dinosaurs For Sale" knowing full well that it'll be SILKIE CHICKS For Sale, and then call it a day. I'm selling eggs with a sign out front, so why not add a new product -  Chicks. It seems logical and although I want all the chicks for me, David does not. I'll get that sign painted real soon and have it out by this Labor Day weekend traffic. We may get one extra car down the road, who knows. If it goes as well as my egg sales, I may have an issue. Now, I could sell them to the last people that bought all my silkie chicks. The problem with that is that they eat them. Yes, I eat chicken too. Just not my own. Selling them to certain death is still a problem for me. I'm not sure that's ever going to be okay.



Hide and Sheep

After the sale of some of our lambs, we are widdled down to 5 sheep now: 3 ewes (Belle, Lulu and Grace) and 2 female lambs (Brooklyn and Willow). In approx 8 months, we'll start the hunt for Trey The Ram to begin this lambing process again.

Grace and Brooklyn

Lulu and Willow 

Grace and Brooklyn, Lulu and Willow as well as Belle are thriving and enjoying their fair share of grazing. With the population decreased, that leaves more forbes for them. 

Forever my Belle

They are well-guarded by Lucy and Marley who are amazing dogs. Who, by the way, do not bother the ducks at the pond, which makes the random duck incident remain unsolved. We are so pleased with their progress of bonding with the sheep and taking on their role as guard dogs for them. Levi and Whisper continue to back them up, teach them and guide them. Though Levi/Whisper are semi-retired, they make sure the parameter is safe at all times.



Coopscaping

Since moving things is something I fancy, I decided a little coop-moving was in order. Several coops were spread around the front area for various reasons, so I decided to consolidate them all next to each other. Chickens don't like change, at all, but they've adjusted to the new outcome. We have little silkie chicks (that have to be confined for awhile longer), and 7 teenagers who are living in smaller coops outside of the Main Coop area (located inside the barn).

From l to r: Small Coop housing 3 teenagers (cat included)
Hippie House housing all the silkies (fenced)
Guest House housing 4 teenagers (luxury suite)

Likely, all these chickens (except for the silkies) will ultimately join the flock inside the barn. While they are young, they tend to stay together and include: 2 blue orpingtons, 1 lavender orpingtons (Small coop), 2 leghorns and 2 sapphire gems (Guest House). They really are beautiful chickens. The four Ideal 236's (that's actually the breed they are: Ideal 236) have turned out stunning. See for yourself.



We were told they may be hard to keep away from the hawks because they are so very white and yummy. So far, so good. They'll start laying eggs in about 2 months or so.

I dare not count chickens right now. With all those chicks, and more hatching, it would certainly make me look crazier than usual to count all of them. I better go work on painting my Chicks For Sale sign.

What it's like to walk out the front door. Hello. 

Or out the window. Teenagers hanging around.

Mixology, look it up

I do keep things shook up around here. I'd like to place blame for this on other things like 'cooler weather is coming' or 'with all this rain we should....' or 'for pasture management purposes' or or or

Let's just say it was time to move more things and mix it up. With all the rain, it was time to provide better shelter for Hope and Faith, esp as Fall approaches and that warm rain is now not-so-warm. After all options are considered, we pick the one that's free99. It's creating a duplex with Dora's stall in the barn. A make-shift area for the horses to come in from cold/rain - all without having Dora try and kick them out. Dora is a stickler about her area. The goats can come into her stall, but no one else (unless I say so, anyway). After shifting a few things around and gathering only 2 pieces of the portable fencing, we created Hope and Faith's area.





















Now it is cement flooring and needs some mats, but it will work wonderfully to allow all the mini's to be out of the rain and cold when they desire to be. Dora still has her area, and they have theirs, yet close by each other.

There's this.....uh, no
you guys cannot get through this and eat the chicken food

This fencing has a small hole in it, and as a bonus, the goats think they've hit the jackpot and can come on up inside the barn. That's a no-no as the chicken food in the barn is for the chickens. It's hard to tell them no because they are so dang cute. But I'd go broke if they did, as they love them some chicken food.

Another bonus to this is I have a dedicated place to bring them in, halter them, tie them and groom them - all at the same time. All with Dora in her own place. She's a Princess, yes, but being old and blind in one eye pulls on my heartstrings. With that said, Hope and Faith are extra special as they are the most kind, gentle, and sweet-spirited mini's. They do not bite nor kick (Dora) and are as cooperative as they can be, considering their past has been so hard.

They tolerate my love, and my desire to groom them and braid their mane. Their physical scars are so visible from the abuse they've endured in their short life, that it's hard to imagine the depth of their emotional scars. We have a deal, and I hold up my end of the bargain: Endless love. And brushing. And more love. And some braids. (The photo of them both has a filter on it that makes them look brown, but their not. They are beautiful black mini's.)  They tolerate me so well, and I'm hoping it's because they know I won't hurt them. Their spirit once broken, is blossoming into a beautiful flower of Hope and Faith.

They really are a regular family with
the usual family things going on.

Un-becoming

As I move through my PV (polycythemia vera) journey, so does the Voices of MPN. Who are they, you ask? They are my people. Their website, their support groups, their resource material online (and mailed to you), their webinars, their presence. I could go on and on. What they do for me is what they do for everyone who has a myeloproliferative neoplasm. Their umbrella covers us and brings us comfort and knowledge in a feeling-of-togetherness format. Along with my health care team, multiple MPN sites (like the one mentioned above), and my family/friends, I am well supported. David has been beside me, as has Lauren, and I'm most grateful. 

Today, I had my second phlebotomy. It's part of the treatment for the thick blood that PV brings. While my bone marrow is churning out red blood cells and too much of it, along with white blood cells and platelets, I must have some taken away. Wouldn't it be nice to just take an aspirin and call it a day? Well, I do that too. I take an aspirin as well as Eliquis every day, and still need to have blood taken from me. Yes, it takes away needed minerals and things such as iron, but being iron deficient is part of this shitstorm. Which is part of the reason the number one symptom of this condition is fatigue. 

I digressed, almost falling down the dark rabbit hole that's always lurking. Where was I, oh yeah, I went to the Infusion Center for my phlebotomy this morning. After having a phlebotomy last month, I was ready for what was to come. It's not that bad, really, if all goes well. And all has gone well for me thus far. There's a needle, and they drain 500 ml of blood from you, and then in my case today, I had 500 ml of saline infused back in me - all via an IV. Easy greasy, esp compared to those around me having chemo and a myriad of other things happening to them. I see the multiple bags hanging, one after the other, and then more. People come here ready to invest 1/2 or all of their day to their treatment. I'm now a part of this. I'm a nurse, although not being a nurse while there. So odd. They are the ones starting the IV on me. So odd. I'm adjusting to this new normal, and grateful for them. 

Me, excited about my new PV
awareness shirt. I've
already gone out on a run in it.

Cha Cha Changes

I've made the tough decision to change from my long-time hematologist oncologist in Carrollton to one closer to where I live. So, I transferred my care to a wonderful hematologist oncologist in McKinney named Dr Athar. This was my first phlebotomy with this facility, although having one before, I was familiar with the process. But this time, it was like changing rooms at the Day Care, going from the Infant Room to the Toddler Room. It's new, with new workers and new rules. The other kids there are new, and I want to go back to my old room where I was comfortable.

Lucky for me, all the new kids were nice, and the workers, kind. I'll be going to the McKinney location for any treatments and doctor visits now. I'm settling in to my new surroundings. And the shorter drive was great! 

Back home jiggly jig and seeing David's face when I got back home is like seeing your food coming at a restaurant. He's there to catch me. I see him watching me. I see him analyzing if I'm okay. I see him happy if I'm happy. God has blessed me with this support, love and grace that I sometimes wonder if I'm worthy. How does one have such grace and blessings bestowed upon them? God. It's all Him. 

I'm walking this story that God has written for me. It feels good, like this is exactly where I'm supposed to be doing the things I'm supposed to do. One thing I know for sure, is He's going to have me do more. Be more. I'm un-becoming all while becoming . Like the journey isn't so much about becoming anything, but about un-becoming everything that isn't really me. Following the path laid before me. 

Thanks for coming along with me, as you have before,

Cyndi