Just a little extra treat for a Friday night.
Fuzzarelly is Back
Friday, June 11, 2010
Made in Italy
Well. So many things to write about; so little talent.
Let me start with my anti-repressent. I am almost totally weaned off of it, as I only have one more day on a quarter of a dose and then I am done. I no longer feel woozy when I wake up, but I don't know quite how I am affected yet. It's hard to notice, looking outward, subjectively and not objectively. I still have that low grade whine in my ears, so subtle that it takes complete silence to hear it. My fuse may be a little shorter, which has caused some misery to others this week and which I hope I have alleviated. Remember that book, Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up to Me? It's hard to tell if I am less depressed yet. I'll have to ask Sweetie in a few weeks.
Poor little Omelet. Oh, he's alive - although when I saw him all hunkered down in the middle of the neighbor's yard yesterday morning, I wasn't sure. He appeared stunned, in shock, and there were wounds around his little head. A cat! I assumed, and picked him and carried him inside. He sat in my towel-covered lap for over an hour, happiest when I pulled the towel over his head. I released him into the A-frame coop and closed the flap, supplied him with water and scratch, and didn't think too much more about it the rest of the day. Last night, I raised the flap and this morning, he was outside the coop . Okay, he's fine. And then, I saw him all alone later on by the side of the house, and it finally dawned on me that it wasn't a cat, it was the other chickens that had done the damage. He's a flock of one, and the littlest among all the other chickens, and his mom has figured he's old enough to not follow her around anymore. A flock of one. Put him back in the coop just now, where he will stay until he's bigger. And I'm saying He, but I don't have any idea whether Omelet is a rooster or a hen.
Yesterday, the reason that Omelet didn't stay on my mind, was that I took Zander and Foxy, plus Freckles from next door, to the vet to be spayed. Picked them all up about 5:30 and a woozier bunch of canines I have never seen. Today, they are better and able to be walked, but still not interested in food.
I have begun a new knitting project, for which I am making a swatch in hat form, with yarn from Luna's shop in Elizabethtown, KY. I'll write a separate post about her shop and my new project soon.
Let me start with my anti-repressent. I am almost totally weaned off of it, as I only have one more day on a quarter of a dose and then I am done. I no longer feel woozy when I wake up, but I don't know quite how I am affected yet. It's hard to notice, looking outward, subjectively and not objectively. I still have that low grade whine in my ears, so subtle that it takes complete silence to hear it. My fuse may be a little shorter, which has caused some misery to others this week and which I hope I have alleviated. Remember that book, Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up to Me? It's hard to tell if I am less depressed yet. I'll have to ask Sweetie in a few weeks.
Poor little Omelet. Oh, he's alive - although when I saw him all hunkered down in the middle of the neighbor's yard yesterday morning, I wasn't sure. He appeared stunned, in shock, and there were wounds around his little head. A cat! I assumed, and picked him and carried him inside. He sat in my towel-covered lap for over an hour, happiest when I pulled the towel over his head. I released him into the A-frame coop and closed the flap, supplied him with water and scratch, and didn't think too much more about it the rest of the day. Last night, I raised the flap and this morning, he was outside the coop . Okay, he's fine. And then, I saw him all alone later on by the side of the house, and it finally dawned on me that it wasn't a cat, it was the other chickens that had done the damage. He's a flock of one, and the littlest among all the other chickens, and his mom has figured he's old enough to not follow her around anymore. A flock of one. Put him back in the coop just now, where he will stay until he's bigger. And I'm saying He, but I don't have any idea whether Omelet is a rooster or a hen.
Yesterday, the reason that Omelet didn't stay on my mind, was that I took Zander and Foxy, plus Freckles from next door, to the vet to be spayed. Picked them all up about 5:30 and a woozier bunch of canines I have never seen. Today, they are better and able to be walked, but still not interested in food.
I have begun a new knitting project, for which I am making a swatch in hat form, with yarn from Luna's shop in Elizabethtown, KY. I'll write a separate post about her shop and my new project soon.
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