Domestic Perils, Again

The dried lavender I kept in the hall was too dry. Do you know what I mean? It still smells amazing, but bits were going everywhere, and it was dusty, but of course you can't dust dry flowers, because the bits go everywhere. Anyway, I was taking them out to the compost, when I remembered that herbs, like lavender, rosemary, oregano, make good nest box material... pretty, and practical against pests. I left the whole bunch on the counter top. The hens fuss with it, and the flowers, those bits, go everywhere, but in a pleasing way. And even over all of the farm smells, I can smell the beautiful lavender. I like this kind of tidying up, where one good deed leads to another. Our hall is looking better, dusted and refreshed, and the hens, certainly, appreciate the touch of elegance dried flowers bring to their space.

If you have been following our quandry about the cat drama... we think we have figured something out. But, first let me go back: There were was some high energy antics on the porch, and a pot fell over. It may have hit a cat, or maybe the plant stand hit a cat. We know for sure that the noise and scare of it freaked all three of them out, and they scattered and one of them made a distressing wail. We checked each of them for bumps and breaks and they seemed ok, but they were not. Sakamoto hid. He would not come out of hiding, not even for food and that is simply unheard of! Feynman was incensed, hissing and growling, puffing up mad! And he positioned himself, always between Sakamoto and Cairo. Cairo was utterly confounded. And this tense stand-off and drama was what we had to deal with for days. Feynman was dogged about keeping Cairo away, would chase him, attack him. Sakamoto was only concerned with staying out of the way, and Cairo looked increasingly victimized and distressed. We tried seperating them, re-introducing them with treats and affection. We had to keep them in different rooms, and rotate them, and everytime we thought things might be improving, Feynman would dig his heels in and react to Cairo like he was the worst kind of villain. It was a stressful 4-5 days. Increasingly we had more frequent moments of peace, of possible reconcillation. And the good news is, we do have a cease-fire.

Here is what we have figured out: We believe Feynman must have very very poor vision, and under duress, he is wary of many things, including the black and white cat, that he seems to believe has broken into our house. If he and Cairo are nose to nose, it's as though nothing was ever wrong, but when Feynman sees Cairo, at a distance of, say, 2-3 feet away, he is wary, suspicious. Now we notice Feynman can even be circumspect about us, or things that appear suddenly. He startles easily, and stares at people, or even high contrast patterns... like our bathroom floor, or Cairo, the black and white cat. When we adopted him the woman in charge of their care assured me that his weepy eyes were just a reaction to the environment, he's fine, she insisted. Well, the weepy eyes have never stopped being messy, concerning, and when the vet saw him, he didn't think any treatments we going to make a difference. But Feynman has always had half-closed, drowsy, weepy eyes, and I think we will ask our vet, again, to take a look. And this is the point when I imagine Professor Feynman with some spectacles, and I think he would look darling. Black rimmed glasses, nothing too heavy. If you've read all the way to this point, and kept track of all of the characters and plot, then I should like to send you a prize, maybe a Chickenblog Merit Badge. I should come up with something like that. Thank you for reading this riveting tale!

Well.

I intended to post more. I have a load of pictures, deep thoughts, and other musings, all ready to go, but really what I should be doing is more of that tidying, dusting, refreshing. My Mom and Dad are coming to town, soon, and other family, too. And Geoff and Max are still plugging away at their work, and... it's busy here. Really really busy. One more thought... the more I clean, the more I find that needs to be cleaned. It's almost a shame I started in the first place. (Just the kind of twisted reasoning that gets me in a mess, I am sure.) I went in for scrubbing our kitchen cabinets, and they got gummy. So I ordered the special cabinet cleaning, goo-gummy solvent and tried again, and it's helping, sort of. Wow. It's likely I don't have a point to make here. But maybe, please, say something encouraging, something to give me courage and faith, because I am surrounded by domestic perils, and daunting tasks, and I don't see how I can ever achieve the kind of shiny success I am after, and I do wonder if I can get close to bringing order, if we shouldn't put the place on the market, and move to an Island, live in an open, rambling house, that isn't very big, or too precious, or a treehouse? I don't know. This may just be blatant, overt avoidance. When's lunch?