Saturday, February 16, 2013

Trout Duck Blues

The one source I thought I had - the one that, if she ever showed up on ebay again, I was sure was I going to get Trout hatching eggs, has informed me that she sold her stock off a little while ago.

I can't print what I said next, not if I want to keep this a friendly blog. I just wish I'd known she was getting out of the Trouts when she was getting out of them, because I might have nice little flock by now. But - well, these things happen. I'll keep looking. Right now the only place I know that sells hatching eggs or stock is in Texas and they don't ship anything. Not eggs, not adult birds, nada. Phooey. You know you have an obsession with a bird when it's beginning to look like your only options to getting one are taking a round trip train ride to San Antonio for hatching eggs (carrying along an incubator you can use on said train) or flying to Britain to negotiate the importation of a breeding flock - and that these options might necessitate selling off a kidney -and it sounds like a perfectly reasonable solution.

If I had the room I'd buy a batch of the lady's Grey Runners. They are also very good looking birds and she has been wonderfully helpful. Unfortunately, until I win the lottery and move into better digs, I have to be careful about my bird acquisitions, and that means I either give up on the Trouties altogether, or hang in there until I can find what I want. Ah well. Hang in there it is.

I hear Britain is lovely this time of year :).

Monday, February 11, 2013

Taking a Shillelagh to My Fears

I finally went back to the gym today. It's been probably a good eight years or more since I've been there, and sitting in the parking lot looking at the front door was the hardest part. I'm not even looking to lose weight, although I know it's going to be an inevitable outcome if I do this right. I'm looking to feel better. I'm looking forward to going on a hike without feeling like my lungs are on fire. I want to shop for clothes again. I want to know I can go out in the back yard and dig holes all damned day long if it is necessary.

My brother is on the telephone telling me that the hall is hiring any moment and it's a plum job that could last for months, and I have spent a weekend getting bent out of shape over it. I'm on the verge of running around on high-gear panic. The kids aren't ready, I'm not ready, do I really have enough travel money to cover this until payday...? And then calling the hall and finding out I haven't moved an inch on the out of work list was  crashing, crushing, wondering are they ever going to send me out to work again? Of course they are. Eventually. Maybe not now. Probably not now. But eventually.

So I'm online now, blogging away, to tell myself to chill the hell on out. I have a check list. I know how to prioritize. If I got called to work today, then things would have this interesting way of just working themselves out. If I don't, I'm still setting up and meeting goals. Everything is going to be all right one way or seven.