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Visiting the old haunts, much has changed. Much has always changed when going back. It is not that everything happens when you move on, change is always happening. The changes that happen when you are there pass relatively unnoticed. Going back when a change is firmly in place provides emphasis. A slow cab ride home through all the old neighbourhoods illustrates this perfectly. Nothing much has changed it seems with the old block of flats next to the railway line; in place since the 1930's, the same low-rent setting, from the air seen sticking out like a sore thumb.
Jill had to leave for the airport, and had once again not packed when it was time to go. She quickly chose enough shirts, underwear and the other things required for a few days away. She was used to packing and it did not take long. Due to the time constraints she asked for a lift rather than walk. The old rusty bike would not fit in the car with both her and the other passengers. She reluctantly agreed to ride and meet them there with her suitcase. It was hard going as the bike was in very bad condition.
I don't recall noticing before just how wonderful Spring weather is. The temperature is perfect and the air smells fragrantly of blossoms. I think I am usually too worried about impending Summer which is my least favourite season. Too hot and humid! I do know this weather is short lived. This year I am living more in the moment and can appreciate it, with some wonder as it is so unexpected. As though I have not experienced Spring before. Or something. I look at the weather app for a day of soaring temperatures ahead. So far, nothing! I love Spring.
My favourite season used to be Autumn. It was a relief after Summer, and I used to feel more comfortable to be covered up, feeling always a bit fat to bare too much skin. Summer these days is just awful and a good reason to lose some weight. It's a shame that is easier said than done. Autumn in a cold weather climate or where there are distinct seasons is a good season. Where I currently live the seasons morph into one another. It is hard to tell where they start and finish. This year Spring seems to have started.
There is, literally, no point. There is no point. It is pointless. The pointy end. The pointy end of the plane. I am worried it is taking me so long to get the garden built and filled the worms in the compost bin will die. The simple solution would be to feed the worms. I stopped filling the compost bin when it was full and when I took delivery of the second bin. The first ended up filling with worms and the compost has now sunk by about a third. I love composting. Even though there probably isn't any point.
I like to make patterns with numbers. I used to do it on my scientific caclulator when I was at school. 525252525252 was a favourite. A lot of what my calculator was designed to do remained a mystery to me. There may be kids out there who don't know about making numbers march across the screen because they use their calculator to calculate. They may also be ignorant of the joys of colouring in graph paper. I thought I would join the colouring craze because I used to love it when I was a kid, but it hasn't hooked me.
Activity is one of the most important things to change - increase - in order to increase healthfulness. Diet and exercise - the exercise part. I went for a walk and my body wondered what I was subjecting it to, I am sure, for I have not walked for a long time, apart from quick trips here and there, no longer than 20 minutes at a time. I listened to music while I walked and I am sure the quality is better on my old iPhone 3 (now serving as an alarm and iPod) than my new mobile device. Could be the speakers.
Thinking how the beginnings of sub culture movements are often earlier than we think, they then become mainstream and tailored and marketed and exploited. It seems the second wave, or the next thing on is the more well known, such as Beats to hippies. Punks used safety pins to hold things together as much as anything, and the safety pin went wild with the punk look. I wonder what the movements are out there at the moment. I am not across much these days. Everything seems bland and the same. I am sure it is not. Just seems that way.
So I thought I might start a small series focused on bad habits. Not my bad habits, I stress, but habits someone most likely has. The list is eating as a hobby, nail biting, general laziness and drinking too much alcohol. Imagine having all of those bad habits. What a disaster. To habitually overeat, gnaw on your nails and drink... I should add smoking. Maybe later. Maybe later I can focus on good habits as well. Good - bad - what about habits that are neither good or bad, like walking the same way to work every day. The list is endless.
The man woke up on Saturday and made himself a cup of tea and went back to bed. He propped up the pillows and read the newspaper, with the cat curled up on his lap. He got up again and made breakfast. While the toast cooked he ate peanut butter straight out of the jar. He went back to bed with coffee and toast and did not emerge again for hours. He would look for food constantly all day, using it as an excuse to sit down and do crossword puzzles. He had become overweight and did not feel good.
The man woke up on Saturday and made himself a cup of tea and went back to bed. He propped up the pillows and read the newspaper. He gnawed on his nails as he read. He got up again and made breakfast which he took back to bed, not emerging again for several hours. His weekend activities were punctuated by bouts of sitting down reading or doing crossword puzzles. He had developed the nail biting habit while reading, and later the cuticle-picking habit. His hands when at rest curled in and went to work, picking away at loose skin.
The man woke up on Saturday and made himself a cup of tea and went back to bed. He propped up the pillows and read the newspaper. He got up again and made breakfast which he took back to bed, not emerging again for several hours. His weekend activities were punctuated by bouts of sitting down reading or doing crossword puzzles whilst having a cup of tea or coffee and some food. Some weekends he did nothing else apart from the basics of existence. He was always tired. He felt powerless and had no motivation to do anything more challenging.
The man woke up on Saturday feeling slightly unwell and stayed in bed. He went back to sleep for a couple of hours before getting up again and making breakfast which he took back to bed, not emerging again until lunch time. He drank a beer while thinking about the chores he wanted to get done. He worked outside in the afternoon and had another beer. He had a few more, standing about thinking. He had another while he watered the garden. He finished the bottle of wine he had started with dinner and then it was time for bed.
I got home from work to find two of my chickens missing. I don't know what happened but think they got under the side gate. One must have got out and the other followed. The one remaining either didn't follow or didn't see them go. I have read that they don't go far and come home to roost. They didn't come home tonight but hopefully they will come home tomorrow. I will get up early and walk around the neighbourhood to see if I can hear them. They make noise in daylight. I hope they are roosting somewhere safe tonight.
I opened the door this morning and knew I would not hear any missing chickens making chicken noises. I went out the back and the remaining chicken was not making any noise either. I had planned to walk the streets listening for them, but decided against it as there was no point. If they were laying I thought I might hear them! I fed the lonely chicken her breakfast and went to work where I made some lost chicken notices. I did a letter box drop this evening up and down the street and around a few corners. It's something.
My mobile phone rings with a number I don't know and it is about my lost chickens! The caller says she found two chickens in her front yard. I can't believe it, I am so happy. She tells me she could not keep them and her visiting dog-acupuncturist, who has a farm on the south coast, took them while she looks for the owner. It is my neighbour directly across the road. She put messages on Facebook and then found the flyer in her letterbox. She tells me they are coming back next Tuesday, a week away. I'm thrilled.
My chickens escape from the yard and I worry I will not see them again and if any harm comes to them I hope they have some excellent adventures first. I have other contact regarding the lost chickens. One caller tells me they were very nice and she had them with rice. Another caller tells me she saw notices on Facebook and another that she saw them walking up the street but she lost sight of them. They may have wandered a way, but they came home again, and now they are holidaying on the south coast. What a story.
I run into the neighbour who found my lost chickens walking her dog. She tells me when they tried to catch the second one it ran across the road toward my house, but she did not know it was going home. That's OK, I am glad they are having a farm-stay holiday and that their temporary carer will bring them home. Meanwhile I have the loneliest chicken in the world who has not laid a single egg since the others have been gone. They are molting and it may be normal at this time. She seems less sad now.
My lost chickens are due home today but I receive a message that they can't come home because they will be in the car for too long. I agree and don't want them in a car all day (nor would I want to own a car with chickens inside it all day! The smell!) I have been so excited to see the reunion between them and the one left behind. There is good news by the end of the day. They will now come home Friday morning. That means I can be home when they arrive. I might arrange bunting.
Breaking things down into smaller parts is a fantastic way to get things done. That is what lists are all about. Simple lists of tasks as an aid to memory and to get things done. For example, a shopping list means you don't forget what you want to buy. A list frees up your mind also, to concentrate on other, more important or more pressing, tasks. Adding to a list can become a habit, something you always do, and that in itself decreases effort. A list will dictate to you what you will do with your time. It will help.
A to do list will chorale and focus your energies in the direction you want, to basically get things done. I wonder what it would be like to have a list of things I don't need to be reminded of. I think I will give that a try. Like, Eat Breakfast; Sit down with a Cup of Tea. I really doubt I could be bothered making a list like that. It might be too depressing! How to waste your life doing sweet FA. Perhaps I have just stopped to smell the roses. I have definitely done that. They smell sweet.
The idea of breaking things down into smaller parts to get things done is a different approach to starting somewhere and keeping going until you have finished. Spring cleaning the house seems less daunting if broken down into categories such as cleaning the windows, removing cobwebs, or cleaning one room at a time, etc. When you start on one of the categories you would start somewhere and keep going until finished. There is no question about where to start with a novel - at the beginning. Beginnings are mostly arbitrary apart from that. Then there is the chicken and egg thing.
So the chickens are home. It does not go as I had been expecting. Firstly the lone chicken was not excited to see them, maybe a bit curious. One of the returning hens eyes off the lone chicken as soon as she is out of the cage and then attacks! I wonder if I have the correct chicken. The other one I recognise but this one is different and did not attack before. It looks older somehow, its colours muddy and its tail feathers a bit bedraggled as though they have been bitten or worn, perhaps from the cage bars.
The bullying chicken continues to be a bother. I try to compare the new bullying chicken with photos but I am not convinced. I think it's the same chicken that became lost, then I am not so sure. The colours on both returning chickens are muddier and darker. I begin to think they may have been in a small cage the entire time they were away. Poor things. I find a good photo of the comb and make a drawing to compare to the chicken. It is undoubtedly the same. At least I know I have the same three hens.
My three chickens are now a group of two and of one. The two that became lost and returned will have nothing to do with the one who stayed behind. One is bullying and the other is indifferent. They sleep together in the coop which is at least a good thing. The bullied chicken has had a bit of blood on her comb and wattle. The bully now seems to be less aggressive as though she has made her point. The bullied chicken looks funny running away. They have plenty of space and it will be a matter of time.
I order some dummy eggs. I thought these were to encourage birds to lay but they can be used to deter hens from pecking their own eggs. The idea is the dummy egg is hard and the hen will become sick of hurting its beak. My hens will only live around two years due to their very high egg production, especially in the first year. One egg per day per hen. That is as high as you can get. They have been laying exactly one year. The pecked hen is not laying at all and thus may outlive them all!
Bradley was frustrated. He was trying to cover too many areas in his job. It was like navigating the ship and cooking the meals in the galley at the same time. He tries to make it work and for the most part it does work, but sometimes when things go wrong he knows if he were able to concentrate on a task the result would be very different. He is worried about an upcoming leave of absence, for when he returns he will always be the mouse in the treadmill, not getting anywhere at all (also whilst cooking and navigating).
The rain was unexpected. Edmund heard it falling softly on the roof. He went out to tend the livestock with a light heart. He remembered hearing reports of terrible storms from travellers arriving from the south - wind and rain and hail as had never been seen before. His brow furrowed as he thought the storm may venture further north. For now he threw grain to the hens and opened the shelter door for the sheep to venture out into the small yard. He would keep them close to the cottage today, just in case. He continued about his chores, happy.
I want to do so many things every weekend but I do hardly anything. I don't know when I became so lazy. I don't know what I am looking for. I don't know what I have lost. Maybe I do know that. What I have lost is less important to me now. Is it because I momentarily find myself without financial concerns? This brief interlude in my life has left me fat and lazy. I am not rich enough to indulge in my own fitness. I am busy. That might be why I want to do nothing on the weekend!
It has been a wonderful month of perfect weather. I can't believe how unappreciative I have been of September in the past. Perhaps it is not always this good. Cool nights and warm days, what could be better. The first day in the low 30's is forecast within the next week. I hope the heat and humidity holds off a bit longer. It is windy at the moment and big winds and floods around southern Australia. I wrote a story about that but lost it, not sure I will be bothered trying to remember. Once it's gone I lose interest.
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