Warning: Whiner Ahead.
Geoff has been home lately, and consequently my space at the computer has been invaded. He's updated software. He's been mucking with all the dials and buttons, and my comfort zone is completely gone. It takes me a long time to figure out how to operate programs and make things on the computer work. I don't figure any of it out with natural geek intuition. Understanding software and navigating the secret passages and backdoors of the computer world is way difficult and foreign, and frustrating.
I can't rename photos and export them as jpgs anymore, because he changed Something. I can't work on my movie project, because he changed Something. I can't post pictures to Chicken Blog, because I can't export them, because he changed Something (technically this is not a third problem, but I am trying to get whiner mileage from the first complaint.) It's not fair to shake my fist at Geoff. If it weren't for him I would not have any computer opportunities, but if he had not changed Something, I would be productive right now instead of cranky. I'm so cranky that a small pain is spreading from between my eyes to the back of my neck.
The small pain may also be coming from other frustrations of my own creation, but the problems we make are never as satisfying to whine about as the problems we are the victims of. I am a victim of good food, and an ample supply of it; it's made me overweight. I am a victim of material possessions; our stuff is all over the house and not keeping itself in order. I am a victim of hormones; strands of my hair are falling out and I find them everywhere, reminding me of getting older, and balding.
One more thing: Geoff and I haven't been to our old neighborhood, together, for fun, since we moved. We went to our favorite feed store/ice cream saloon yesterday. Our neighbors have horses and like ice cream so it seemed like a fun excursion to make with them. We were enjoying the ambiance and sharing some ice cream when Duke and his daughter Donna walked into the saloon. Duke is the man that bought El Rancho, our former home, and his daughter kept our Chicas. They are very nice people, but it was a little awkward for us, because Geoff and I are shy people, and because they are living in the house that we worked very hard to make a home and then chose to sell for a higher purpose, which has turned out to make finding a new home unexpectedly difficult. Alex whispered in my ear to ask about the Chicas. He wanted to know how our hens, Gracie, Rosie and Luna were doing. With reverence and apology, Duke explained that one at a time, since early in December, they had been taken by coyotes.
This is Chicken Blog and those dear, silly hens were the inspiration for a lot of joy and fun. There is a great deal I can think to say about their significance to me, but it's the very affection and regard that I had for them that makes me silent.
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