mental health

More driving today… and tomorrow, and the day after, and then…

/ Re-Farmer / 2 Comments

You know, it’s a good thing my “job” is to take care of this place. Otherwise, I have no idea how I’d manage to get things done.

Things like unexpected shopping trips.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, the cuteness!

There was one heck of a crowd in the isolation shelter when I came back from doing my morning rounds! As I came closer to the shelter, some of the more feral cats ran away, leaving “only” eleven left in the upper level of the shelter. I think there might have been as many as fifteen cats, crammed into that upper level, as I was walking up to the shelter!

Once I was back inside and having my breakfast, my daughter suddenly came in with her phone. She’d been wanting to book a follow up visit with her doctor today, which was on my morning to-do list, as I wanted to book a meet and greet for myself, too. The doctor I’m seeing now is still the interim doctor. It may be convenient having the same doctor as my mother, but we’re working to get my mother into assisted living, and it would be more convenient to have the same doctor as my daughter. That and the clinic is right next to a grocery store, which is extra handy. 😄

Well, the clinic called her cell phone (I’m shocked they got through!), and she was wondering what date worked for me to drive in. So I talked to the receptionist and booked a double appointment for us. After the call, my daughter asked, who goes first? I told her, I would, and then I could go to the grocery store if we needed anything, while she had her appointment. It’s been a long time since I’ve had my bloodwork done, though, so I won’t be surprised if I get a requisition for that to be done. There is a lab in the pharmacy right at the clinic, too.

After the call and while finishing breakfast, I was wrestling with myself. There were a few things I wasn’t able to get at the grocery store yesterday. If I left early enough, I might be able to find them before they sold out. Mostly, I was looking to get a party tray of fresh vegetables, and maybe another of fruit, to go with our finger food New Year’s celebration. Plus a flat of eggs. With tomorrow being New Year’s Eve, I knew things would be busy and things would sell out fast, but none of it was necessary, and I really didn’t want to go.

Then my mother phoned.

She was worried about her MRI appointment on the first. It’s a big holiday, and everybody has the day off, so there must be some sort of mistake. I told her, hospitals don’t have the day off. Oh, for emergencies, sure, she tells me. I finally asked, are you wanting me to cancel the appointment? Oh… no… but are you sure there’s no mistake?

I assured her that, when I got the call, I did ask because the appointment was on New Year’s day. They confirmed.

Then she started talking about how, when she looks into her fridge, it’s looking pretty empty.

Did she want me to come over?

Oh, no, she tells me. Then starts listing off all the stuff she still has (even after telling me she was out of various things). Plus, it’s cold, and she also needs to go to the bank, and she doesn’t want to go out in the cold. Plus, today is Bingo day.

I told her, it’s going to start getting colder again after New Year’s. Looking at my calendar, I added, it’s either today or Thursday, and it’s supposed to be colder on Thursday.

She hemmed and hawed some more.

Finally I told her to just start her list, because I can come over today. She was getting her Meals on Wheels today, so I told her I would be there for about 1pm, after she had a chance to eat.

I ended up leaving early enough to do my own shopping first. This little grocery store doesn’t do party trays, so I ended up getting some fresh vegetables to make our own party tray, some grapes to go with our charcuterie board, plus a few other things. Then, because the price was right, I picked up a 2 pack of frying chickens for less than a single chicken normally is. The Instant Pot I got for my daughters is big enough to fit a whole chicken in it, so that would work out well.

(As I write this, I can hear the pot venting away; they’ve started a pot roast for the first meal with it!)

From there, I put some gas in the tank (we’re going through a lot more gas than usual, with all the extra driving around!), got my own lunch to eat in the truck (the truck seats are more comfortable) and still ended up at my mother’s about half an hour early.

When I got there, she was in the lobby, looking for something.

She was wondering why bingo wasn’t set up yet.

I asked how she was doing, and she was silent, making motions and acting like there was some reason not to speak out loud. Finally, she said, it’s better not to say.

So…. I guess that meant she wasn’t feeling well?

She did manage to tell me that she wasn’t up to going out and would just give me her list. Then she was going on about where bingo was one or not, then knocking on a neighbour’s door right by the common room to ask him if he knew if it was still on. He didn’t, and seemed confused that she was asking him. She told him she could just phone, instead. I told her, it’s barely past 12:30. It’s probably still too early, thinking it started at 1, but nope: turns out it starts at 1:30. Way too early to be setting up!

I managed to get her back to her place and, as soon as she sat down, she started digging around for a phone number. I eventually figured out she meant to call the senior’s center (they run the social events in her building) to find out if bingo was still on. I told her, why bother calling? Just go over at 1:30 and see. It’s either on or it isn’t, but there’s no need to call. She agreed that she could do that.

Then we went over her list, she gave me funds for her shopping, and I was soon off. The shopping is a lot faster when it’s just me using her list. When I got back and made my way through the common room, I saw that they were starting to set up for bingo! 😄

I made sure to tell her that, when I got to her place. After putting away her groceries, there was time for a bit of a visit before bingo started. As we were talking, she told me how her breathing issues seem to be connected to how much commotion is going on. After asking some questions, it seems like a stress response. The problem is, my mother is creating a lot of her own stress, like worrying about there being a mistake with her MRI appointment (this isn’t the first time she’s done that with appointments, so it’s not just about it being on New Year’s day), or that bingo was cancelled because nothing was set up an hour in advance.

Then she started talking about her vision. Oh, her vision. It’s getting worse.

Now this set off all sorts of alarm bells with me. With her wet macular degeneration, we were advised to monitor it closely and, if it starts getting worse, to get her back to the eye clinic in the city right away. So of course, I started asking more specific questions.

As she started talking about how her vision is getting worse, she casually mentioned that the “black spot” is gone…

Wait… what???? !!!!

Then she mentioned the wavy lines are gone.

????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy lines were from dry macular degeneration in her left eye. She’s taking special vitamins to keep that from getting worse. For those to be gone is amazing, but not as amazing as for her to say the “black spot” in her right eye is gone!

I got her to cover her left eye, then held my hand about two feet from her face, raising two fingers. I asked her, can you see the two fingers?

Yes, she tells me.

I raise a third finger without saying anything.

Three fingers, she tells me.

I’m totally shocked that she could see any fingers at all!

I moved my had back another couple of feet and tried again.

She couldn’t tell me how many fingers, but she could see that “something” was there.

I am totally blown away. While at the clinic with her, less than a month ago, a tech did the same test with her, and she couldn’t see his fingers. When he had her try and look at a single letter on the eye chart, she saw nothing at all.

The eye doctor had told her she shouldn’t need more injections, but also that her eye would not get better. There is scar tissue that will not go away. The injections were to keep it from getting worse, but that we shouldn’t expect it to get better. Her next appointment is in February, and we are to monitor her and bring her back if it gets worse.

Now, it seems her vision around that scarred area in her eye has healed enough that she can see more.

But, she told me, her vision is getting worse. It’s getting “dimmer”. I tried to ask questions to get a better idea of what she meant, but she started getting really frustrated. She simply doesn’t have the vocabulary to tell me what she means. So we dropped that part.

She’s been wearing her old glasses, though, since she decided the eye doctor she got her prescription from gave her a bad prescription and cheated her (they treated her like gold). I suggested that tomorrow, she try wearing her new glasses, as those would have the most up to date prescription. She agreed that it was worth a try.

Hopefully, she will remember to do it in the morning.

Then there was a knock at the door. One of her neighbours had come over to let her know, bingo would be starting soon!

So we said our goodbyes, and I headed home.

By then, it was pretty much time to do my evening rounds, so I headed out and topped up the kibble and warm water for the outside cats.

I just had to get a picture of these two.

The one in the freshly emptied food bowl is Magda. She is pretty friendly and lets us pick her some and sometimes even carry her.

The one above her, with the black splotches on its nose and mouth, has been named Ink by the girls. It also has black splotches on its front paws. The girls think it looks like he’s been playing with a pot of ink, so that’s what they’ve named him.

Or her.

He’s pretty feral and won’t let us anywhere near him to find out, one way or the other!

Oh, there was one other unexpected thing today.

Not long ago, my daughter tried to log into her bank account and found it locked. I got a message from her while I was on my way home. She’d gotten through to the bank on the phone and discovered that someone tried to use her debit card number (she has no credit card) at a restaurant in the US. !!! It was stopped and her accounted locked as potential fraud, so nothing was taken from her bank account, thank God!

She would, however, need to go to a branch and get a replacement card.

As soon as I could, I called the branch in my mother’s town to confirm their hours. They are open tomorrow.

Which means that, tomorrow, I will be driving my daughter to our bank branch in my mother’s town (we won’t be able to do that much longer; I hear this branch will be closing!).

Then, the day after tomorrow – New Year’s Day – I will be taking my mother to her MRI appointment.

Then, on the 2nd, my husband and I will be going to trade his phone in before they ding him with the end-of-contract bill of almost $700. It has to be done before the 4th, and that’s the only day I’ve got left.

The next day, Friday, I’m taking the truck in to get the MAF sensor and block heater cord replaced.

Then, on the following Monday, I’m taking my mother to her regular doctor for a follow up appointment.

Then, on the Wednesday, I’m going back to the same town, but a different clinic, for the joint appointment for me and my daughter.

I’m doing as much driving in the next couple of weeks as I would normally do in a month in the summer. In the winter, I try to do as little driving as possible, but that’s just not working out!

Thank God winter has been mild and conditions pretty good, so far. Based on the 10 day forecast, though, that joint appointment is going to be on a day where the high is expected to be -24C/-13F, while the lows are supposed to be -29C/-20F.

At least we’ll be able to plug in the block heater by then! That’s being replaced on Friday, and Thursday night is when overnight lows are starting to dip below -20C/-4F again.

Weirdly, the long term forecast now says we’ll have about 10 days of that, then 10 days or so of temperatures rising to just below freezing again. This is a La Nińa winter, though, and the system should start affecting our area more over the next couple of months. For our region, that usually means colder temperatures, but it looks like we’re going to be getting temperature whiplash, instead!

Once we get past that last appointment, I hope to not have to do anything more than short trips into town – and hardly any of those! – until it’s time to go more stock up shopping at the end of January!

I just want to stay home.

The Re-Farmer

Everything is all right

/ Re-Farmer / 2 Comments

Well, I’m happy to say that my daughter’s visit to the doctor today went well, and it’s nothing serious. The dizziness was caused by her inner ear.

She also had high blood pressure, though once I heard her numbers, I think it is likely to be “white coat syndrome”. She got a prescription, but we won’t be able to fill it for a while. Once we got home, my husband called the pharmacy to ask how much it was, as our daughters are not covered by his insurance. They couldn’t say, exactly, because it’s currently unavailable, and they don’t know when it will be available again. Still, the approximate cost they were able to give us is well within our prescription budget.

Since we were a walk in, my daughter was seen in between appointments, so we ended up waiting about 2 1/2 hours, give or take a few minutes. We did get to see a new doctor we’d heard excellent reviews for, who also happens to be open for new patients. I’d had it suggested that we switch my mother to this new doctor, since she doesn’t like her current one, because she’s black, female and has a strong accent. I’ve advised against switching doctors because she’s in the middle of trying to get into long term care or assisted living, and changing doctors would set things back.

It turns out, my mother wouldn’t like this doctor, anyhow. She’s black, female and has a strong accent. It just happens to be a British accent instead of a Nigerian one. 😄😄

My daughter, however, really likes her. She listened to what my daughter had to say, didn’t jump to conclusions or make assumptions, and actually took her seriously. After examining her to try and find a cause of the dizziness, which involved sitting my daughter on the edge of the examination table, then flinging her down onto her side abruptly, it was determined that it’s an inner ear problem. My daughter was written up for blood work, and there’s a lab just down the hall from the clinic, so that got done as soon as we booked a follow up appointment in two weeks. This will be to both get the test results and for an official “meet and greet”, so that this doctor will officially be my daughter’s doctor.

In two weeks, I’ve got an appointment for another field of vision test. The eye clinic is just a few blocks away from the medical clinic, and my appointment is in the afternoon. My daughter has to come along to drive me home, since my eyes will be dilated – hopefully, her dizziness will not be an issue by then! So we booked for the same morning.

Unfortunately, the only morning appointment they had was at 8:45. Which means we need to be on the road by at least 7:30, if not earlier. It’ll be a long day, but I don’t mind. My daughter and I can hang out together and have a lunch date in between appointments.

The town we had to go to is most of the way to the small city with the Walmart we go to, in between the big city shopping trips. My daughter felt well enough to go there, instead of figuring out where to find cheap kibble in the town we were in. As we were driving, she read from the printouts she got, which was much funnier than they probably intended.

The short version:

What is the cause? It could be this, it could be that, or it could be nothing at all. We don’t know.

What is the treatment? do this exercise that involves sitting on the side of the bed, then flinging yourself bodily down onto your side abruptly, several times. Repeat the process three times a day.

Why does this treatment work? we have no idea. It just does.

We found that incredibly funny. Especially the “exercise” instructions.

When we got to the Walmart, my daughter stayed in the truck while I did the shopping, as she got more dizzy spells along the way. We didn’t need much, so it wasn’t long before we were on our way home again.

During the drive home, though, we got a message from my husband. He found broken glass on the floor in my office/bedroom, where there is food for the cats. It turned out that the cats had knocked over a glass jar I had on my window sill, filled with pretty beach rocks. Thankfully, the glass broke but didn’t shatter into a million pieces, like some types of glass does. Still, the cat food in the tray had to be thrown out, and I’m probably going to be finding beach rocks on my floor for days!

Meanwhile, tomorrow, I am off again to take my mother for her eye treatment. I called and left a message for her, and she just called back. She didn’t try to get out of it at all, which was good.

What was not good was finding out she had visitors. Our vandal and his wife. Apparently, he’s still getting chemo or something. He behaves when his wife is with him, but after hearing the message he left at my brother’s cell number, she seems to finally understand that when there are other people around, it’s the “nice” him, but those phone calls are the real him.

She still can’t bring herself to tell him to not come around anymore. She told me she tried to recommend he was a religious program she enjoys every morning, and talk to him about turning to God. Apparently, he has some pretty nasty things to say about the show she watches, even with his wife there, so she was not happy.

I do hope the process for getting my mother into long term care or assisted living happens soon. The faster she can move out of where she is, the sooner we can make sure he can’t show up at her place anymore. Hopefully, we can even keep him from finding out where she ended up living but, if nothing else, we’d be able to tell the staff that he’s not allowed to see her for security reasons.

I so wish we didn’t have to do this. We used to be so close. The person he used to be, however, is gone.

Mental illness can be very cruel. Especially if it’s a type where a person can hide it and be “normal”, even from their own spouses.

It is what it is, though. We can only work with the hand we’re dealt with.

As for tomorrow, my mother and I have worked out our schedule, and what time we have to be on the road for. The high for tomorrow is supposed to be below freezing, but no rain or snow, so the roads should be clear.

It’s going to be a long day away from home, though.

I’ll have to remind my family to keep checking my office/bedroom to make sure the cats aren’t destroying it while I’m gone!

🫤🫤

The Re-Farmer

From good to not so good!

/ Re-Farmer / 16 Comments

Yesterday was such a good day! I’m just so happy to have finally got the cat isolation shelter to the point that we can use it (though it still doesn’t have a latch on the ramp-door).

I didn’t over exert myself.

Honest. I didn’t.

Working on the shelter was mostly a lot of back and forth to get things cut and nailed or screwed into place. I wasn’t doing anything heavy or strenuous.

Yet, apparently, I overdid it.

I was in bed, just finishing my devotions, when I tried to roll over.

Thankfully, I still had my phone in my hand when the leg cramps hit. I was just able to get so I could sit on the side of the bed, but couldn’t go more than that. I was able tap “help” to my older daughter, and that was it.

She didn’t need more information to know what was going on. Which is good, yet not good, since it shows now often I’ve been getting these, lately.

I’ve had some bad Charlie horses before but, this time, it hit me in both thighs, on all sides and severe enough for pain to shoot down into my calves and up into my hips.

I couldn’t bend, I couldn’t straighten, I could barely use my arms to shift. Even taking the ibuprofen and magnesium my daughter brought me was difficult.

She stayed with me until the painkillers kicked in. Even that was weird. First my right leg, then my left, just suddenly relaxed, with a jolt. Even so, my daughter had to lift me legs for me so I could get back into bed, because the muscles were quivering so much.

As I slowly recovered, and I was able to talk, my daughter mentioned looking up the cause of these. She thought at first it might be lack of hydration, but she knows I stay on top of that. Her next thought was perhaps a lack of salt.

My initial reaction was no, but then I realized that yesterday, I’d eaten almost no salt all day.

It’s the only thing either of us could think of that might apply.

She ended up bringing me a few rock crystals of Himalayan pink salt for me to chew on.

I did eventually fall asleep, but it was many hours before my thigh muscles felt anywhere close to normal. It’s almost 8pm as I write this, and they still feel trembly at times.

My older daughter took care of doing the softened kibble feeding of the outside cats this morning for me, so I could try to sleep in – or at least stay in bed longer.

In the end, if was cats going bonkers, chasing the lady beetles that have gotten inside, that had me giving up on trying to get more sleep.

With the various plumbing issues we have right now, we’ve all been slowly chipping away at dishes and cooking as little as possible. The kettle has been kept going pretty much all the time. Between washing ourselves, using boiled water to soak the outside cats’ kibble, and just general clean up, we’ve taken to simply filling it and setting it to boil so there’s at least warm water available for the next person who needs it.

I did eventually make it outside. It started to rain, so I moved the shallots that were hanging on the high raised bed frame to cure, into the garage. Another couple of days, and they will be braided and brought into the root cellar.

I also got a heat lamp set up in the sun room, as the nights are going to be going below freezing soon. I was going to put the second one in the isolation shelter, ready to be plugged in as needed, but I will have to find a way to secure it better. I want it to be hanging from the centre of the roof, but I will need a little step ladder to reach. 😄 So that will wait for now. I did make sure both sliding panels were closed, though, to keep the weather out of the upper level. There is just the ramp door to get in and out.

The cats quite like going in there!

It had been my plan to clean up and put things away in the garage, now that the isolation shelter no longer needs to be in there, so we can finally park the truck in the garage again.

That didn’t happen!

Maybe tomorrow.

This is Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and we do have a turkey thawing out. It’ll be ready to be cooked tomorrow, so that’s when we’ll do what we can for a thanksgiving dinner, even if we don’t end up eating it until much later.

My daughters emptied out the wardrobe of my husband’s things – mostly his old office clothes, which he has little occasion to wear these days. They all went into the laundry, and my daughters got the wardrobe upstairs.

Which means my husband now has access to the closet in his room.

We can also bring back his tiny medication fridge, and the table it sits on, back into his room, though that will be done tomorrow.

He’s going to need some sort of small shelf, though.

While I was outside, my mother called. After a bit of telephone tag, we finally connected.

I’m glad to say that she has been really happy with her Meals on Wheels deliveries. She is really enjoying the food, and not having to cook it herself! This is going to work out much better for her than the bulk meal prep that home care offers.

“One of the ladies” told her that the hospital in town has a new doctor, and she told me we should make an appointment with her.

My mother is STILL talking about changing doctors, while she’s in the middle of being assessed for placement in a nursing home or supportive living. If I thought it would actually help any, sure – if nothing else, it would mean her current doctor won’t have a racist AF patient. The problem is, my mother is never happy with any doctor she has. This is a female doctor, and my mother doesn’t think women can be good doctors, just nurses, so we already know she won’t be happy with any female doctor. Even with male doctors, if they don’t tell her what she wants to hear, she’ll find something about them that disqualifies them in her mind. And if there isn’t something there, she’ll invent something. Even doctors she starts out liking, she’ll turn on them in a heartbeat.

She has a very long history of doing this sort of thing.

Eventually, I was able to update my mother on the septic repairs. When I first told her about discovering there was a leak at the expeller, she offered to pay for repairs. I ran the estimates by her and that we were going with the company that was closer.

Today, I told her how this company had stopped returning my calls, so I contacted the other company and ended up talking to the owner.

As I was trying to tell her this, she kept interrupting. I should just get my brother to do fix it, she tells me.

I had to explain, an excavator is needed. It has to be dug up.

We should just have it moved.

???

Moved? That would be an even bigger job to do!

She is not at all understanding our system here. My dad took care of all this stuff, and it’s as if she’s never seen the expeller before, even though she remembers the other things in the area, like the water fountain for the cows that was set up, along with a tap in the barn and another water fountain on the other side of the barn, all piped at the same time.

Then she started telling me my brother should be doing this, not me, because this is a man’s thing to do (talking to companies to arrange repairs, etc.), and my brother is somehow dumping this on me. I told her, this is my “job”. It’s part of the deal I had with her, and that I now have with my brother.

As all this was going on, she also started saying how, oh, someone told her that the farm is not hers anymore, it’s not her responsibility…

Yup.

She started backing out of her offer to pay for the repairs.

After she made a few passive aggressive threats about that, I finally told her, stop playing games with me. Are you going to pay for it, or not? Because if you’re not, I have to call the company to cancel the job.

Thankfully, there is now at least some water running through the expeller, so it would probably last us through the winter, but still… that would not be good.

Well, my mother, being my mother, bounced from saying, yes, she would pay for it (making it sound like I asked her to, rather than being something she offered to do) and why should she pay for it? At one point, she asked me, if I were in her place, would I do it? I said yes, if I could, I would.

I don’t think she expected that.

Anyhow.

This is another old thing with her. She will offer something, then when the time comes, start to back off, and use the offer to manipulate people. I have no patience for what is basically psychological abuse. Especially at a time like this, when we have so many things breaking down at once. I did manage to mention the hot water tank issues, but she just blew right past that. I doubt she even heard me. She even tried to drag my brother into the whole thing, and why doesn’t he call her?

I finally just said, it’s because you do stuff like this, and I just can’t handle this right now.

I then said we would talk later, said goodbye and hung up.

After that, I sent a message to my brother, updating him about the call, telling him it looks like my mother is backing away from her offer of paying for the repairs, so I’ll probably have to call and cancel the job.

While I was writing that message, my older daughter walked in and asked me if I knew what was going on with the bathroom fan.

Yup.

Guess what else is no longer working!

We had that fan’s motor replaced just a few years ago. The previous motor was the original, installed in the mid 70’s.

On top of all this, there were just lots of other little things going wrong, all day.

I did get one good phone call, though.

My brother called.

My mother had called him not long after talking to me.

She never mentioned her call with me at all, but she did bring up that she’d “heard” he was here at the farm yesterday. Yes. Yes, he was, he told her. He’d dropped some stuff off, then checked on the hot water tank and the bathroom for us.

He had to distract her from jumping to all sorts of conclusions about that.

She brought up wanting him to come to put away her air conditioner for the winter, which he’d already said he was planning to do. He won’t be able do it until after Nov. 1, though. When he goes there, he has to plan to be there for several hours, and it’s really hard for him to carve out that much time in his schedule.

As they were talking, the topic of the roof came up and he was saying how great it was that it was done, and that it has a 25 yr warranty, and they’ll both be gone before when.

What do you mean, she wanted to know. Is he sick?

…

No… 25 years is a long time. The average life span for a male is 80 years, and lots can happen in 25 years.

That led to them talking about the message our vandal somehow managed to leave on my brother’s cell phone, and the terrible things he was saying about my brother and I. My brother even managed to even address how our vandal does and says all these terrible things, and she treats him so well, but my brother and I love her so much, and take care of her, but she treats us to cruelly. He even brought up how we are dealing with so many problems right now, and her response is to mess with us. Why is that?

She started to go into her usual justifications, on how she loves everyone equally, but he cut that off, because no. She doesn’t.

He’s not sure if he managed to get through to her, how illogical her behaviour in that respect it. Particularly when it came to her saying she would pay for the repairs, then backing off. My mother, however, is acting as though I’d asked her to pay for it, which I would never do. “Donations gratefully accepted”, as my late brother used to say, but help from my mother tends to come with a high price tag, and if there were any way we could get the repairs done without her help, we’d do it.

In the end, though, my brother assured me that my mother will keep her word about paying for the repairs. The amount isn’t all that much – for her, at least – and she’s thrown twice as much at our vandal, just because, before. More than once.

Mostly, though, he wanted to make sure I didn’t cancel the repair job!

I told him I wouldn’t.

So that, at least was a positive end to the day.

Well. Not that the day is over yet, but close enough!

Tonight, I think I’ll make sure to take some ibuprofen instead of my usual acetaminophen, and maybe make sure I’ve eaten enough salt with my meals, before going to bed!

I think an early bed time is a very good idea, today.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

The Re-Farmer

Never quite good enough, and bigger concerns

/ Re-Farmer / 2 Comments

Before I get into my topic, here’s a Ginger picture for you to enjoy!

I interrupted his nap! :-D

Such a sweet baby boy he is! :-)

Now, onto less fun stuff.

I mentioned in my last post about our garden progress, that I’d showed photos of the pea beds to my mother.

As expected, she had nothing positive to say.

When we moved out here, she had made such a big deal about us having to plant a garden and was so angry when we didn’t, and now that we are growing a garden – and a very large one, this year – she’s still angry! It doesn’t matter what I do; it’s never going to be good enough! I’ve learned to accept that, though. ;-)

There were, however, other concerns.

In showing her a photo of the pea beds, she could not recognize where they were. She even asked if it was “in the yard” (meaning in the lawn to the south of the house), and there is nothing in the yard that looks even remotely like that area. She thought the poplar poles were steel, and was thoroughly perplexed by the “screen”; she used the Polish word for screen, but she meant the strings I’d put up on the one trellis for the peas to climb. It took me saying it was just twine I found in the basement, three times before she was willing to accept it. She also seemed confused about the poplar posts. I told her where I got them from, then dropped it. She was having a hard enough time understanding what I was showing her in the photos. I didn’t want to try and explain something she couldn’t see. I had even shown her where we made the bed for the tomatoes, at the chain link fence. She looked at it, but didn’t say anything. I’m not sure she recognized where it was, even though her flower bed and lilac bush were visible in the photo.

Of course, she had to make negative comments about the nice, new garden soil the peas were planted in. She tried to mock me for buying soil, only to put it on top of other soil (where else it would go?). That was when I told her that I’ve been testing the soil (still not finished doing that), and that is it low on nutrients. How could that be? She never had a problem growing things! *sigh* I had to explain – again – that nothing has been done for that soil for a very, very long time! It’s not that she doesn’t understand the concept. She just refuses to accept it.

I showed her a picture of all the cups of seeds we have in the big fish tank greenhouse. She asked about the cups, and I explained about the double cupping and – anticipating the objection I could see building up – mentioned that there are people who have been using the same cups for 10 years, and they’re still good. Then I showed her what I had in the little tank, and her only question was, no more fish? No more fish, Mom. Just plants!

From there she launched into how she should have told us, before we moved, to just sell everything (she’s upset that we have aquariums), because we could have moved right into the house as it was; it already had furniture, etc. I had to explain to her that no, the house was really unlivable. I told her about how my dad’s old bed broke, and the bed upstairs had mouse poop under the covers, and the state of the mattresses. We didn’t get past that. She was wondering how there could be mice, when there were cats, and I pointed out that the cats were outside, not in the house! Then the subject got changed.

The thing is, before we moved, she did tell us to just sell everything. And we did sell and get rid of a LOT of stuff, but this was a conversation we had many times. It was a major point of contention, because she convinced us to move out by offering to pay for the movers, but then basically tried to back out of it. I think she really believes we could have moved out with little more than the clothes on our backs, and everything would have been just fine. The odd thing was for her to bring it up as if it had never been discussed before.

We went back to talking garden stuff, and I showed her a picture of the tomato seedlings and luffa in the sun room. Then I tried to explain to her what luffa were. She cut me off in mid sentence, telling me she didn’t want to hear about it because she had never heard of them before and didn’t care.

I called her on her behaviour at that point. She tried to use her age to justify it; she could say stuff like that, because she’s older than me. I did run with the joke, but also pointed out that age is no excuse to treat people like this.

I don’t know that it sunk in.

Thankfully, I’ve reached a point in my life where she can no longer hurt me, but she can – and does – hurt others in the family, and is completely oblivious to it, so if I can get her to think about the effect her words can have on other people, I will try.

That part, at least, was pretty normal for conversations with her. I am having other concerns. Among them, she’s been complaining of dizziness and headaches. Her knees are bothering her a lot more than usual, as is her mystery pain in her side. Usually, when I come out to help her with her shopping, she takes advantage of having a driver to run other errands, but today, it was just the grocery shopping, and that was it. Yesterday, she had suggested going to the hardware store, because she wants to buy us fence posts for that section by the garden. I didn’t bring it up, because she clearly wasn’t up to doing anything beyond her grocery shopping.

It’s not just her physical health that is at issue. For the past while, in conversations with her, I’ve noticed what I can only describe as a sort of malaise. Usually, she makes quite a big deal of her aches and pains (there was a clear element of using them to get attention involved), following by loud proclamations about how she wants to live! She’s not ready to go to heaven yet! There are too many things she wants to do!

She hasn’t done that in a while. Instead, I’m having to ask her questions to find out about things like the headaches and increased pain. She’s also tried dismissing them as just being part of getting old, which is really unusual for her. Basically, I’m seeing red flags for both her physical health, her mental acuity, and her psychological state. Part of my concern is that she’s had her second jab recently. After her first one, she complained of pain in basically all her joints, nausea, etc. All reactions many other people have described having after getting the C19 jab. Now she’s got the headaches and nausea; also common reactions, but too common to associate with any specific thing. All I can say is that it’s unusual for her, and it started after she got her second jab. She’s not associating it with the shot, though. She’s convinced the nurse or whoever it was, faked giving it to her, because my mother never felt the needle. The malaise, though, had started after her first jab.

Another part of the problem is the continued restrictions. In fact, the province went and shut down churches again. Churches are not, and have never been, transmission hubs in this province (nor anywhere else, as far as I’ve been able to find; it’s always been mostly through either nursing homes and long term care centres, or other places indoors with extended contact, like family homes). All the social activities that my mother enjoyed so much are still banned. Even within her building, people are still having to sneak visits with each other, hiding from the caretakers. Her municipality – as well as ours – has never even had a single case. Being able to go to church again was pretty much the only thing my mother had left to look forward to.

I’m seeing my mother in decline, and a lot of it is directly because of our province putting everyone basically under house arrest and turning us into a police state, as if that could somehow, magically, control Schrodinger’s virus. (Thank God we don’t live in the city! It’s much worse there.) The very things that had her wanting to live have been taken away. Now, her biggest excitement is being able to go grocery shopping, and even that has started to cause her more pain.

This has got to change.

The Re-Farmer

My brain is fried

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In my last post, I wrote about the destruction wrought by our indoor cats. To counter that, here is a photo of an adorable little outside cat.

Meet Ginger, of the rubber spine!

He followed me around while I was doing my rounds, and kept flinging himself onto the ground in front of me, rolling about like some sort of Polychaete worm. Adorable!

Inside cat destruction is not, however, what fried my brain.

I call a call from my brother this morning, to talk about upcoming court dates. I’ve got my application for a restraining order against our vandal coming up this month, and the court date for his vexatious litigation against me in July. It took him a while, but my brother had managed to finally upload a file of phone messages our vandal had left with our mother. I already had the most recent ones. These ones were basically from the past year.

I just spent that last few hours transcribing them.

The transcription itself is it’s own challenge, with having to go back and listen to things repeatedly, trying to figure out what was being said. I’m pretty sure he was drunk for some of these calls, but in others… well, he just doesn’t sound all there, words and phrases are messed up, and there is some stuttering as he was clearly trying to find the words to say.

The other thing was, of course, the subject matter. Though my mother has no part in my applying for a restraining order against him, he keeps accusing her of trying to put him in jail. In fact, it’s a vast conspiracy of my mother, me and my siblings, and the RCMP, all trying to put him in jail. Because we’re evil. And my late father and brother are watching this from heaven in disapproval. Also, apparently, my mother has given the farm to me. All of it. Never mind that my younger brother has already inherited a third of it. And we only love my mother for her money (that apparently she had loads of. Somewhere). And did you know that there are people being killed and raped around the world, but here she is, trying to put him in jail?

This dude needs psychiatric help. I realize my mother got these calls over the span of a more than a year, counting the most recent ones, but I was listening to all of them, one after the other. And he is absolutely obsessed with me, and me being here on the farm, not allowing him on the property or access to all the stuff he thinks belongs to him. The fact that he was caught in the act of breaking the gate, then trying to break it again, on top of his pilfering over the years before we moved out here, never came up. Instead, he would say things like “why are you doing this to me?”

Yeah. Brain. Fried.

I need to go distract myself with something more sane.

The Re-Farmer

A new day

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Today dawned a beautifully sunny, bitterly cold day. It doesn’t take much for the wind chill to bring a -12C (10F) morning to -22C (-7F)! It was good to get outside, though, where a whole crowd of furry adorableness was out waiting for me.

I didn’t post yesterday, other than the critter of the day photo, and I’m still debating where I should write about it at all. I generally try to focus on the things we do and find around the property, but this blog is also about our transition to life out here, and the things we deal with. Obviously, there are things I’ll never write about in a public blog, even anonymously, but I do try to cover what I can, as openly as possible. The good and the bad.

Yesterday was both.

Yesterday is also the first time it brought me to tears.

Believe me. It takes a lot to get me to that point.

The first tears were tears of … how do I even describe it? Humiliation? Frustration, to be sure. Emotional pain. Even a sense of betrayal.

My husband needed a prescription refill. The pharmacy was closed on Remembrance Day, so he ended up calling it in on the first day of our province locking things down again. They’re also pushing the mask mandates even harder, despite all evidence showing that it’s not actually accomplishing anything. Pretty much everyone is complying, but the test positivity numbers continue to go up, as we work our way through flu season.

My husband forgot to ask the pharmacy about my medical exemption. I’ve never had a problem there before. I’ve always used the sanitizer, kept my distance, but have never worn a mask, and they have never said a thing about it. However, after what happened while in a pharmacy with my mother, I figured I should ask first.

Maybe I shouldn’t have. Would it have been any different, if I just came in, as usual?

I called the pharmacy and asked if they would still honour my medical exemption. I did add that I now have a shield.

At first, the pharmacist I spoke to said yes, of course. He even joked that I might have to wrestle my way in, but added that I just needed to explain to whomever was at the door. That was a relief.

I got a call back less than a minute later.

The pharmacist had just been told that no, even with a shield, I could not come in.

This really threw me. I didn’t really get a chance to respond, as he was already offering delivery, which we can’t do because we don’t have a credit card, and debit Visa is not an alternative they can do. He said they could bring the prescription to me in the parking lot and asked if I were paying by cash. I told him by debit. It turned out they did have a wireless debit machine, so I could pay in the parking lot. I told him I had other things I needed to get, so I was transferred so floor staff. Thankfully, I already had made a list. Usually, I just go by memory.

By the time the staff member finished getting what was on my list, I was was in tears. I did make a point of telling her I had a problem with having to do this, how humiliating it was, and yeah, she could certainly hear I was crying by then.

Here’s the thing. If they offered this as a service, which I knew they already did, for anyone who chose it, that is simply good customer service. The problem is that, for someone like myself, who cannot wear a mask, there is no choice. We are simply banned. There’s a whole list of things that we can still do. Masking is the last thing recommended, and only in specific situations, and the mandates have several exemptions. Yet, outside of websites and pdfs, it’s the other way around. Masks have become the end all-be all, and if anyone has a problem with them, they become pariahs. Even as the mandates allow for medical exemptions, people insist that there is no medical reason to not wear a mask, or that it’s just for a short time, so wear it anyway. I know people who are wheelchair users that can walk short distances. It would be like telling them that, since they can walk at least a little bit, they have to leave their wheelchairs outside. Or worse, that if they can walk at all, they shouldn’t be allowed to use a wheelchair. Or they should just stay home. It’s the exact same sort of discrimination.

Anyhow.

The other place I needed to go to was the grocery store, so I pulled myself together and phoned them, too.

Will they still honour my medical exemption? I do have a shield I can wear.

Of course, was the response. Everyone does!

I told the woman I was talking to that the pharmacy would not let me in, even with a shield. She was stunned, but went to double check, just in case. She came back to assure me that I would have no problem.

I was crying again as I thanked her, this time in gratitude.

When I got to town, my first stop was the pharmacy. I called from the parking lot to let them know I was there, and two people came out with my stuff. I recognized the manager was one of them, simply because he was male and not a pharmacist; all the other staff are female. Most of the pharmacists are, too. There was a cashier with him, and I think I recognized her by her hair. They put my stuff in the van, behind my seat, for me. The manager commented that this was the first time their wireless debit machine had ever been used. The cashier was there to be trained on it.

Oh, the irony.

Because my purchase was over $100, tap wouldn’t work, so he had to hand me the machine. The cashier had the till receipt, so after they got the printout from the handheld machine, she put them together and handed me both.

I came into physical contact with both of them in the process. I would have had less physical contact with anyone, had I gone into the store.

That done, I decided to fill my tank before going into the grocery store. Normally, I go in to pay, and usually pick up some cheap energy drinks for the cooler in the van in the process.

I paid at the pump, instead.

I’ve never had a problem there before, either. At least not from the staff. I just didn’t have the energy to find out if things had changed.

At the grocery store, nothing had changed. I did wear the shield. It keeps hitting my chest and shoulders as I move around and, having put it on in the van, the wind almost blew it off as I walked to the store. It was when I coughed that the sense of irony hit me again. My chronic cough is what wearing a mask exacerbates. Usually, I cough into my sleeve or shoulder, never my hand but with the shield on, I coughed into my hand before I even realized what I was doing. :-/

As I was finishing up with my groceries, I made a point of telling the cashier how much I appreciated that they honoured medical exemptions. Like the woman I spoke to on the phone, she sounded surprised that anyone wouldn’t. I told her about the pharmacy, that the hardware store next door had kicked me out the previous week, and of the pharmacy in my mother’s town kicking me out. She could hardly believe it. The mandate has exemptions, and everyone is supposed to honour them. She was so surprised by the places I’d mentioned.

By the time I got home, I was pretty drained. It didn’t help when I was on my personal Facebook page. A friend of mine, who works at the gas station where I paid at the pump instead of going in, had posted about people not wearing masks. She talked about people being a**holes about it and giving her a hard time, and if that were the only point, I would have been completely in agreement with her. Staff are supposed to tell people about the mandate, and shouldn’t be hassled for it. Instead, she started attacking people for not wearing masks, and making digs about people buying cigarettes but not being willing to wear a mask for 5 minutes. When I tried to point out medical exemptions can include all sorts of things, it basically came down to, if she had to wear a mask, everyone else should, too. The next thing I knew, I was the subject of an onslaught of personal attacks. I actually had to get off the computer soon after and haven’t been back to Facebook since, but it was bad enough that a mutual friend messaged me privately, telling me how sorry she was to see me being bullied so badly. I’m loathe to log on again, but she did try to defend me, which means she was probably targeted, too, so I would want to come to her defense.

*sigh*

I have long been against the covering of faces in general (other than the obvious exceptions, like protecting your face from the weather), whether it be protestors wearing masks, or burkas or whatever. One of the biggest reasons is psychological. Hiding our faces dehumanizes us, even if only subconsciously. It creates a mental, as well as physical, barrier between people. And when we no longer see others as people, even the most gentle of people can become quite cruel, and believe themselves completely justified for it. With so many people hidden behind masks now, my observations have been verified, over and over, and the psychological damage is even worse than I’d originally believed.

How can we ever heal from this? Especially with so many people trying to convince everyone that masking should become permanent, so we should all just get used to it?

The “cure” is becoming so much worse than the disease.

The Re-Farmer

A little bit further

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Let’s start with some adorable kitties, having breakfast!

They’re just a great way to start the day! :-D

As for the rest of the day, things were just… tiring.

I got a phone call early in the day. Well, any phone call at all is unusual for us. ;-D

It was my older brother, letting me know he got a phone call from our vandal. My brother was at his work office, so he didn’t answer, but once he heard the message, he wanted to let me know about it, right away.

Amazingly, after making some nasty digs about not being allowed in the property anymore, he had the nerve to request written permission to come on the property.

There are some 2x4s in the barn, and he’s building a shed, so he wants them.

Unbelievable!

My brother was able to send me the file and I got it transcribed before I had to head out. So that was helpful, though ultimately, I never made use of it.

My first stop was at the garage to get the broken shield on my mother’s car fixed.

The tip of it was broken off. The shield had been held in place with a plastic clip that was still holding the tip in place. Since the length was changed, he ended up having to drill and screw into a new hole.

The whole thing, including the time to drive the car in, use the lift, fix it, then drive it out again, took 5 minutes.

I offered to pay, but he wouldn’t bill me anything for it.

What an awesome guy!

Since it took so little time, I was able to drive to the nearer small city and go to the court office to apply for a restraining order and involuntary mental health assessment for our vandal.

The municipality the court is in is under a mask mandate, so I had to go through the usual questioning about my not wearing one, but there were no issues when I said I was medically exempt. I explained why I was there and got the two forms explained to me, but I had to leave the space to fill them out, since the area around the counter was small, and they could only serve one person at a time. I ended up standing at a garbage/recycling station to have a flat surface to work on. Which was fine by me.

I wasn’t able to pass on any of the printouts I brought, but I was glad to have them, since as I filled out the forms, I could use them to get exact dates and remember key details. Not that there was room for much.

After passing the completed forms back, answering a few questions, swearing on the Bible (which was in a clear plastic bag, and got sprayed with sanitizer first) and getting my signatures witnessed, it was back out the door to sit and wait.

Surprisingly, it was the mental health order that was dealt with faster.

Someone came out to talk to me and, in a nutshell, she could not grant the mental health order. She did, however, tell me exactly why and what I needed, then gave me a new form to take home, so I could reapply. The biggest question was whether or not he’d been told to get help, and refused it, very recently – as in, within the last 24 hours or so. I’ve certainly told him to get help before, but I haven’t had direct contact with him in ages for a reason! All in all, she was very helpful. I think, even with how little I could fit into the form, she could tell that this was a real issue.

Then I had to wait about the restraining order. When I got called in for that, I was given the sheet that would go to the police to go over; after some details were corrected, I signed it.

I now have a court date in November.

He will be served by the police some time soon. Which means we will have to double down on keeping an eye on things, because this is likely to trigger him.

The whole time I was there was very stressful. I’ve actually had to go through some of this before we moved, but it’s very different when the person is not someone you used to be close to. My body was so tense, I had to go to the bathroom three times, just because of how much my abdomen was cramping up. My hands were shaking so bad, I could hardly write, and I felt like throwing up, all from being so physically tense. And yet, I was actually pretty calm about the whole thing, mentally. There is still that physiological response to stress, and I just had to push my way through it.

I am glad to have at least been able to get the process started. I have steps to take, and can try again with the mental health order once I get those ducks in a row.

The next while is going to require being on high alert. I thought I knew this person very well, but now, I have no idea how he will react once he’s served with the court date.

It has to stop. The process, however, is so very slow.

This is no way to live.

The Re-Farmer

Tired

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Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest.

Instead, I’ve just spent roughly 6 hours, going through old emails, video and image files, and transcribing voice mail messages.

I’m not quite done, but that’s it for digging through old stuff.

If all goes well with my mom’s car tomorrow, I’ll be heading to court to file for a restraining order right after, and hopefully the psychiatric evaluation, too.

Transcribing the audio files was the most draining. I’d forgotten about some of the horrible things our vandal had said about us. Worse was having to listen to bits, over and over again, to try and transcribe things that were almost gibberish. Likely, he was drunk. There was some pretty crazy stuff in there. My guess is, he has Paranoid Personality Disorder.

To think, he’s been leaving messages like this, and worse, with my mother for almost a decade. Not about me all that time, of course, but other stuff. I’m just the first person who’s in a position to do something about it.

The last thing I want to do is write an impact statement. I don’t even know if any of this will be needed. I was selective in printing out old emails between me and my family that documented some of the crazier stuff – I even have some that predated our move! – and still ended up with a stack an inch thick. Granted, that’s with lots of formatted spaces and larger fonts, but still. The package for the restraining order is much, much smaller, but when it comes to applying for a psychiatric evaluation, I’d rather have more available than less, even if they don’t end up needing it all.

For now, I’m taking a break.

It’s time for a big pot of tea.

The Re-Farmer

I need some cat therapy

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The kitties were very happy to see me this morning!

Okay, so maybe is wasn’t me they were happy to see, but the food I bring!

The heated water bowl was partially frozen again, so I had to lift the roof to plug it back in. I’ll have to go through my work station in the basement to find an appropriately sized hook to support the cord.

Which I will do later, because my morning was dedicated to a more unpleasant project. I have been putting together a package to bring with me when I go to apply for a restraining order. Thankfully, the type I’m after covers more “minor” stuff, like believing there is a threat to property. Which has already happened. I would have a more difficult time proving my need for, say, a protection order for stalking.

Before our move, we unfortunately had to deal with the police and court system quite a bit, and it left me incredibly jaded. Thankfully, I had long developed the habit of journaling and documenting things to share with family far away. It didn’t take much more to switch focus to document things for police files and courts.

As much as I try to keep everything organized on my computer, it still took some digging. Especially since I was going back to 2018, to establish a history of vandalism, as well as the more recent stuff showing that, whatever program our vandal was required to go through, it didn’t help.

The hard part is going to be going through what I have to present my case for an involuntary psychiatric assessment. It’s not like I can give them a bunch of electronic files and expect them to go through it all. I’ll have to select images and screen captures to print out and, what will be most difficult, transcribe some of the voice mail messages that this person has left. I’ve had to do similar documentation of many hours of security videos, before our move. Two others had already started to but had to stop because of how traumatic it became. It takes a lot for me to reach that point, but even I had to stop after a while. In the end, it was futile, since the police wouldn’t do anything about it, anyhow.

It’s particularly hard to disassociate when you’re right in the middle of the events that need documenting, and that’s what I’m dreading about all this. We’re talking about having a person arrested and forced into a psychiatric hospital for evaluation against their will. This is a big deal, which has a lot to do with why I haven’t done this since the police first started recommending it to me. It seems to be the only way to get this person the help they need. If he doesn’t get that help, it’s not going to stop, and will likely get worse. I need to make a really solid case, and while there is plenty I can produce to show this, going through it all is going to be really unpleasant.

So, I’ve got my work cut out for me over the weekend; Monday is the earliest I can make the drive and start the process.

I had really hoped living out here would mean getting away from stuff like this.

It’s still better than what we left behind, though.

The Re-Farmer

Thanksgiving lunch, mulch experiment and outside kitten progress

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Lats this morning I headed over to my mother’s place with a turkey dinner to have lunch with her.

On the way out, I spotted three sets of ears in the window of the cat shelter.

Tiny sets of years belonging to the little kittens! I didn’t dare go closer for a picture, though, because I didn’t want to startle them away. There may have been more cats inside with them that I couldn’t see, too. I’m so glad to see them in the shelter, rather than hiding under it!

My mother and I had a very nice lunch and visit (how visits turn out is always touch and go with my mother! LOL). I brought a mask exemption card to tape to her door, and another she can carry with her. Hopefully, that will help reduce the harassment from the caretakers. Unfortunately, I think more has happened than she is telling us, because she kept insisting she “doesn’t want a war” and even started asking me not to call the housing department responsible for her building to talk about the caretaker’s abusive behaviour. She wore a mask – under her nose! – to meet me at the side door that’s very close to her own apartment door, and even in that short distance, by the time she was back in her apartment, she was struggling to breathe. She had also mentioned to me on the phone, waking up and struggling to breathe again. So I brought a foam wedge we got for my husband that he ended up not being able to use. Depending on how it’s positioned, it can be used under the knees, to lean against while sitting up in bed, or to sleep in an inclined position. The doctor had recommended trying to sleep more upright to see if that helped. When she saw it, however, she flat out refused to even try it and told me to take it home. Eventually, she said it was because it looked ugly! Which I highly doubt is the real reason. Frustrating!

Still, it was a good visit and my mother was very happy I was able to come over. I think the pandemic social restrictions are really getting to her. There used to be many events and gatherings, either in her own building, or in nearby venues, that she attended. Now, there are none. It seems the only real “social” interactions she’s getting these days are with the nasty caretaking couple. The restrictions seem to be bringing out the worst in people. I think she is getting very lonely, and some serious cabin fever!

Once at home, I took advantage of the warmer weather. With the garlic ready to be picked up when the post office opens tomorrow, I was thinking of how I wanted to mulch the beds. The straw is not breaking down as I had expected, and I decided to try an experiment.

Using the new push mower to chop it into smaller pieces!

The bag filled up very quickly, but it wasn’t until I had already started that I realized I’d forgotten to check the height of the mower. It was at 7; the highest setting! So things weren’t quite as chopped up as I wanted.

I lowered it to 3 and that chopped things up much better.

It took only 2 bags to fill the wagon, it’s so fluffy. LOL I laid out a tarp near the beds the garlic will be planted it, to make it easier to work with when it’s needed – plus I can fold half the tarp over the pile to keep the wind from blowing it away.

Unfortunately, I had an unexpected problem.

The new lawn mower stopped starting.

Right from the beginning, it was harder to start, but every time I had to turn it off to empty that bag, it kept getting harder to restart it until, finally, I just couldn’t start it at all. It had been so easy to start, before! In the spring, when we had so much rain, I was using it a lot and had no problems. Then the rain stopped, and the grass never really got long enough to make it worth cutting again. So it’s been sitting in the garage for the last couple of months. That on its own should not cause the problem. I couldn’t find any reason for it. It just won’t start. After getting only 2 1/2 wagon loads done, I finally gave up.

I will just have to take it in to the small engine shop in town to get it looked at, later in the year.

So the experiment worked, as far as chopping up the straw to make a finer mulch. It was just the lawn mower that failed!

After giving up on that task, I took the time to take the sun room replacement door off in preparation for painting the frame. I plan to get at that as soon as possible tomorrow morning, then go to the mail to pick up our bulbs. I will get the garlic in, while the girls will be doing the digging to get their flowers in.

While working at the door, I spotted this.

That is two little kittens in there! One of the orange tabbies, and Creamsicle Jr. As I walked around after taking the picture, Potato Beetle came out of the entry. I hadn’t seen him at all in there!

So I decided not to go inside after taking the door off, and stayed to see if I could get the kittens to play.

I had a target in mind.

This little lady. In the interest of trying to reduce future litters, we are hoping to get her friendly enough to bring her inside.

Yeah. I know. We have too many cats inside already!

Nostrildamus, meanwhile, couldn’t get enough attention! It was only a couple of weeks ago that we were lucky if we could pet him at all. Now, he’s all over us, asking for pets! He still doesn’t like to be picked up, but he does like chewing on fingers!

The two napping in the shelter eventually came out to see what was going on, and joined in on the play. I was able to pet the little orange one – the smallest of the 4 younger kittens – and even managed to pet Creamsicle Jr. a bit. The calico, however, would not let me touch her! However, my daughter came out to join me for a while, and she tried to play with them. Not only did she get the calico close enough to pet, she was even able to pick her up! Only briefly, and she didn’t like it, but she didn’t run away after jumping down, either.

Aside from Nostrildamus, we seem to be having a better time of socializing Butterscotch’s second litter than the older kittens. Though it didn’t help that Butterscotch was around and growling all the other cats away, including her own babies!

Still, we have made some socialization progress!

The other little orange kitten came by later. That one, the gender is still in doubt, but from what little we’ve been able to see, I suspect it is female.

I thought it was supposed to be rare for orange tabbies to be female, but here, they seem to be the majority! Of the older kittens, Nostrildamus is the only whose gender we are sure of. His one confirmed sister is now inside, but with the luck we’ve been having, his other sibling and Rosencrantz’s baby are also female! And we can’t get anywhere near any of them. :-(

Ah, well. We will just have to do what we can. Mostly, I’m just really, really glad the little kittens are going inside the shelter.

The Re-Farmer