Today I was able to merge the drawing prompt with what is on my heart, so I have a nifty illustration to accompany my slice of life today. Yay! Join other bloggers or just read and comment and enjoy by following the link for the Slice of Life Story Challenge, blogging every day in the month of March. Click on the link in the sentence or click the slice icon.
Today's SDD (Simple Daily Drawing) prompt was this: Hammerhead Shark. I got the hammer part, and I got the head part, but the shark part kinda got left out.
Yesterday we saw and smelled the smoke/fire. It made me nervous. It made the animals nervous. They were a mess. One of my chickens even tried to come inside. Which is funny because not too many of my remaining chickens get confused about whether or not they are indoor or outdoor chickens. Uno has never really been confused or concerned about it. But last evening she ran to the back door. And the dogs walked around and whined, and the cats were just crazy. Everyone smelled it. All creatures at our "farm." They didn't like it. It smelled like danger. Amen. I completely agree. Ugh.
We came back from a back road sneak into town trip to the Dollar General. Ironically enough, the highway wasn't closed, we could have gone the other way. But we didn't. The roads were closed on the other side of the highway from DG though. So a mere 2 miles from us the roads were closed. And late last night I learned that a friend lost her home and animals. Not a super close friend, but more than a casual acquaintance. I bought a walking stick from her husband, she bought tiedye from me. We talk about teaching and kids and what's broken and what's not about education.
I believe in God. A God. Not the god of my youth. But a power that is greater than myself. A force. Energy. Something that sustains me. It's name is often simply, "Good." At our house, it is known that Good takes care of us. But as good and as gentle as I believe this force is, sometimes I am stubborn. Too stubborn to pray, to ask for help, to submit. Knowing a power or force is greater and stronger than me and giving up my own stubborn will and ambitions, are two very different things. And sometimes I am only bent into pray through consistent and constant hammering of life situations until all that beating bends my neck and bows my head and I cry out for help.
Hammering away on me are the daily struggles, the big things, the little things and currently, wildfires. Not metaphorically, though that is valid too, but literally. There's a lil ole Kansas wildfire that started raging yesterday afternoon and paralyzed me with fear. I now have emergency preparations of food, cages, bowls, blankets and so forth for critters. I have decided which critters will get packed up and which will be left to fend for themselves. I have a list of what needs to be included in the "go bag." For critters, the bag will pack swiftly. For the humans, that is more complicated. I am aware that I need to pack a go bag with toothbrush and toothpaste and all that good stuff for situations like this. And then just leave it alone. Not steal from it, etc.
I spent at least an hour of the time I should have been spending packing and preparing being overwhelmed and distracted and doing everything but what was needed. I gave THREE birds epsom salt baths for instance. I suppose on some level it made sense to me at the time. But really? Birds number one, Raven, I think she has bumblefoot. I think she's gonna lose some toes. How did it get this bad? Probably because I have only read about bumblefoot before, it's my first hen to try to treat. Then I find that my little Wood Duck drake, Diego, is limping. I don't know why. But I know what will cure him.... epsom salts. They are the miracle cure of the animal world. and the people world, so you know. When in doubt, soak it out....
So I soaked his feet. and then I inspected him the best I could. He wasn't a very willing participant. In spite of how cute and cuddly he appears, he was not all about being handled and hugged and turned and looked over. But I didn't really see or feel bumblefoot. So maybe I soaked his feet for not. Who knows. So.... I go to treat my injured hen that still needs to be sprayed with Vetericyn and saline wash. I see she has poop all over her fluff on her fluffy butt. So I clean it, and clean it, and clean it. Because it doesn't really want to come out of her soft, fluffy, downy-like feathers. And then, completely by accident, I felt it. A hard egg-sized spot just to the side of her vent. Could she be egg-bound? Oh boy. Into the epsom salt bath she goes. Epsom salt bath numero tres in the time I had designated to get prepared for the worst so we could believe for the best. (Latest check shows she has not passed the egg yet and her life could be in danger).
Alas, I was still not prepared and my chickens and ducks and geese were waiting impatiently for me to come through for them. Or at least to feed them. By now it's dark and dreary and the winds are somewhat calmer than earlier. So I feed and lock up pens and collect any eggs. Except a little nest of duck eggs. I am experimenting with that little nest to see if they sit and hatch their eggs. The nest says that they want to try. And I have a plenty of duck eggs already, so try my duckies, try.
Finally, I'm inside from choring, I have prepared foods and whatever for animals should we be told to leave. It's almost 10. My kiddo is up from her "nap." lol. Seventeen. Her internal clock is WAY way different than mine. And it seems that we are safe from the fire hazards. Safe enough anyway to breathe, find some dinner, chat on the phone, sit and relax.....
But my mind is still being hammered.
When will I know about income? What will we do? What is the next step? Lord, I need your help. Oh, yeah, God, can you look after my kids? I know the oldest is overwhelmed, tired, stressed and stretched really thin. I know I miss her and want to spend time but that scheduling that could quite possibly be that one more thing that she doesn't need right now. So grateful she has "a life": husband, kid, bonus kids, job, friends, pets, and so on. But I have to tell you God, I just wish she wanted to spend time with me. What? What are you telling me God? You might be right. I don't really wish that. Because this seems right, normal, and she seems happy. So in spite of my loneliness, I am grateful. Thanks God for my kid and her health and happiness. Please protect her.
I'm worried. I am the mother of a trans kid. I had this beautiful, funny, intelligent daughter named Carolyn. She was such a bright spot in my bleak world. But she was scared, overwhelmed, closeted. I have been in the know for over a year now. My Carolyn is not a Carolyn after all. Because she is Levi. She is he. Him. I worry. I know he gets frustrated that my journey is slow to accept and embrace him as he is. Well, not-so-much-as-he-is-today. I mean, I'm sure I fall short. But I think I do okay with the present. It is the past. He was my girl, my Carolyn. And it irks me a bit that I'm not supposed to just acknowledge and relive those memories as they live in my head and heart, that my child feels like I am somehow making him less today by remembering her. My little one with the long red hair and the bright eyes and smile. This is only a tiny slice of my grief. There is my worry. Constant worry. What will happen if.... (fill in the blank). But a huge piece would be, what would happen if my Mom and sister were to be informed or somehow "accidentally" found out that my Carolyn is now Levi. That I have decided I am not going to play God and shame or blame or wish for the other. That I am going to love him to the end and pray to god that the end is not premature because of the overwhelming weight of his transgenderness (? is that a word?). Because in the face of my family's conservative Christianity (for lack of better terms), both he and I will be shamed. Possibly disowned. But not without some literature or letter writing about how we are wrong (him for who he is and me for choosing to just be a mother to the child I have without shaming or disowning him) and more heavy judgement. This worries me. And I think then about the fear that the LGBTQ+ community lives with daily. And I am bent farther and I must surrender and pray.
The worries of the world are heavy and hammering away. But once I bend down my neck and pray, the hammering is less crippling.
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