The Spring Thaw And Other Stuff

Every year there is a shining moment when the cold and dark of winter drops from my psyche and the promise of all things new infuses my outlook. This event can happen even when the weather remains cold or dismal. This year that moment coincides with great news at work. In fact, there is double good news at work, and that makes me very happy. Very happy.

I am not sure what negative and dark influence has been shadowing my life these many months, but yesterday the metaphorical sun was shining brightly. I am optimistic, happy, and actually looking forward to showing up at the cube farm this morning. Perhaps it is merely the upswing of bipolar disorder? Aaahhh, who cares?

*Last night as I was watching my favorite ghost hunting team on television, I realized every exhale was fogging my glasses. Drat! I had allowed the propane to run out. All night I dreaded taking a cold shower this morning, but there was enough warm water for a quick shower, so not even a cold house can dampen my spirits today. The co-op guys are pretty good about coming right out for attention deficit customers like myself, so by tonight I will likely be warm and toasty and have almost unlimited hot water.

* Monday morning as I was walking up to the barn, Ginger met me on the trail! An escaped horse is never a good sign for getting to work on time. I tried to persuade her to follow me to the barn, but she continued all the way down to the house. The gates were shut so I was wondering if someone had let her out when I found the escape route. The fence man had used a piece of wire hog panel to fashion a human gate, attached to a post with only baling twine. All of the twine had rotted away, apparently at the exact same instant in time. When Ginger leaned on the hog panel, it bent away allowing her to slip out.

She had spent a lot of time in the hay barn, tearing into the bales and scattering good hay all over the ground. One full bale she had managed to toss about eight feet from the barn. It had one big horse bite out of it. I called her to the barn in the usual manner "Coooooooooome horrrrrrrrrrses!" She came to me right away. I used a piece of baling twine as a makeshift halter to lead her into the pasture. What a wild mustang!

*Sophie is the wildest house cat - ever. She knows how to open cupboards and get inside, even the high cupboards, and she knocks things out. My good binoculars were laying on the floor yesterday when I got home. She also leaps onto the curtain rods, which will not hold her weight. She has knocked down almost all of the curtains in the whole house. This anarchy must stop! Sophie might have to be returned to my neighbor's house where she was born, and where all of her litter mates live in the huge riding arena/barn. Sophie's brothers and sisters climb all the way to the overhead beams in that barn and hunt birds thirty feet in the air. I can not allow her to live outdoors here because cats do not live long, even with the Duke's protection. Not to mention, before the coyotes killed and ate her, Sophie would kill my chickens and decimate the wild bird populations. It is a problematic relationship! Maybe she will eventually calm down.

Time to feed the critters and head for my professional cubicle in town. I still have a few good years left before I have to retire with the rest of the baby boomers. We are exiting the work force in droves, all of us old radicals, hippies, yuppies, intellects, artists, rockers, bikers, philosophers, scientists, authors, professors, and bra-burning women libbers. We will change things at the old folks home, too, before we make our final exit. My generation: we will go out with a bang, and not a whimper.