Tomorrow I go in for surgery...NOT my favorite thing...to remove the
metal bar and 6 or 8 screws that are holding my left ankle together.
Yesterday and today I've been trying to get the things done that require
me walking/driving/leaving the house/being upright. Bank...grocery
store...gassing up the car...the kind of chores I refer to as "killin'
rats"--that is, things that have to get done, but nobody likes doing.
I'm also digging out my Advance Directive paperwork to take along, much
as thinking of that kind of thing is Big Time No Fun and makes me cringe
a bit, it's gotta be done. My own personal take is: No heroic
measures (which means no rescusitating me or placing feeding tubes if it
means I'll be a vegetable and have no quality of life), and if I pass
away I want to donate any organs they can use and cremate the rest of
me. Strip me for parts and burn the rest, heck I'll be long gone anyway
so I won't care. *L* J. has the same plans, although he still needs
to officially fill out the paperwork. Hate that general anesthetic,
*bleah*. I really am fascinated by surgery anyway so I'd prefer to be
able to watch, but they don't allow it.
This evening I was out
enjoying the grass and visiting with the chickens since I'm going to be
in the house for the next few days/weeks (our house is raised and has no
wheelchair ramps). Phoenix the rooster
Ain't he cute? Goofy, but pretty!
came
over to be friendly, so I picked him up, talked to him and petted him.
I teased him a bit with my standard line as I gently felt his little
meaty thighs, "Ooh, aren't we a
yummy, meaty bird! Umm, yep he's
just about ready to eat, FEEL those meaty little drumsticks!" Phoenix just
gives me a "Sure, like you'd ever
really eat me. I know you're
full of BS." look and bears with it. N. came over and said, "Can I?"
OK, I said, but gently. She does, feeling his thigh and saying, "Yum,
ice cream!"
I was laughing so hard I had to set Phoenix down. Drumsticks=ice cream, in the mind of a 5 year old... :)
From my brother:
ReplyDeleteYou could really confuse her... Next time you hear the ice cream truck, yell "Chicken Parts!"
Be sure to tell N. that drumsticks are Auntie H's favorite kind of ice cream...
Phoenix is a rather appropriate name for that bird. What is he, really?A "Calcutta Floppy-top"? A "Mob-cap Red and Grey"?
Phoenix is a mixed breed bird--his mom is Louise, an Americaunas hen and his dad was Jack, our big Barred Rock rooster. We named him Phoenix because he is literally the color of smoke and fire. He gets the fun facial tufts and beard from his Americaunas mom, and most of his gray color and sweet nature from Jack. His comb is large but flops over his left eye (vary rakish!) because Americaunas have small, 'rose' (kinda flat and crumpled looking) combs and Barred Rocks have the classic large, upright combs. He's grown a bit since this photo was taken last year, and now has huge, really cool looking BLACK spurs. When he molts them I'm going to save them for J.'s Faire costume, we already have two of Jack's old spurs.
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