What's Up?

Sometimes it’s easy to write a blog. The words just pour out of my head and through the keyboard and like BAM! I’m totally done with an entire page of writing. These days the wheels on the bus are going round and round and that’s the sound that keeps playing in my head. Instead of inspirational psychology, or fluid religious theories, or even a funny story, I’ve got nursery rhymes on repeat as I’m trying to doze off every night. Not to say I’m not entertained, because having a 2-year-old granddaughter in the house is richly entertaining, but my brain is reverting back to my childhood. I’m legit playing barefoot in the yard with his child!

Instead of the written word, which seems to be losing its notoriety, I’m doing TikTok videos so I can fit in with the “cool kids”. I’m writing letters to my daughter who is on extended vacation until October. I’m collecting eggs from my weird and ever-vexing chickens who suddenly decided that I was going to lop their heads off if they didn’t each (including the rooster) start producing an egg a day. I’m not sure what’s going on but if I get all the eggs every single day and the next day there are 15 eggs when I go to collect and I have exactly 15 chickens – including the rooster – someone is doing some weird stuff.

Now I have a broody hen. Of all things! No, ma'am, I do not need any more chicks. Yeah I get that it’s spring and you think you’re supposed to, but my rooster is three to four years old. The likelihood of all those eggs being fertile is slim to none. I just don’t see it happening but I just don’t have the heart to take her off her brood at the moment. She has two more weeks at most and I’m going to have to though. Poor hen. Either she’s really confused or we’re going to have an unknown quantity of chicks in a couple of weeks.

I don’t know if y’all know this but it takes roughly 21 days for a fertile chicken egg to hatch. Three weeks from laid to fuzzy baby chick. Then, depending on the breed, those chicks could be laying their own eggs in under 6 months, or be ready for the freezer. This isn’t a blog about chickens though. That’s just a side note.

Most of the time I write about what bothers me and somehow or another seeing it typed out helps me process the whole situation and make it make sense. Right now, I don’t want to do that because what is vexing me most is not something I’d share with the world because not even if I changed names would it make sense to write down in a blog. Y’all would be shaking your heads and saying WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

I don’t know. Doctors don’t know. I’m pretty sure God Himself is confused and the Holy Spirit is just sitting here on a bookshelf, eating a PB&J and muttering “fix it Jesus” under His breath.

I’m doing. That’s what I’m doing. I said what’s the worst thing that could happen if.....and I’m filling in the blanks.