We are going to be warm today at 60F (15C) and are in full meltdown! Water is running everywhere and even drowns out most of the birds chirping their territorial, mating, and nesting calls. Those calls, when properly translated, are these: "Get out of my tree!", "Pick me! Pick me!" and "Does this horsehair look better here or over there?"
In other news, I was retrieving the eggs the other day as Stitch was out of town at meetings (they are her chickens). I am not sure if I tripped or if one of those sly birds developed a sense of humor, but nevertheless I pitched forward at an alarming rate when exiting the coop. Fortunately, I had a thick hat pulled over my face and my forward momentum was stopped by a wall, so I only hit my forehead. After the swelling went down and the bleeding stopped I looked like this.
The Cooker gave me a nickname a long time ago when we was a-courtin' because of my tendency to unintentionally self-injure. "Jon the Impaler" because, while I watched where my feet were going I tended not to notice where the rest of me was headed. It made for regular non-life-threatening injuries which often had entertaining stories to go with the scars. Once the first mark is there it's no big deal to get more. Similar to when you have a new car and get that first scratch on it. You just have to shrug and decide whether or not professional medical attention is required.
The important thing to remember is to keep your tetanus vaccinations up to date.
Gathering eggs is riskier than it looks! Be careful next time. Can't wait to see your pictures of the spring thaw.
ReplyDeleteI am extremely injury prone myself but that is no mystery; I am right brained (as you probably can figure out) and naturally left handed, but like most of my generation in this country my parents compelled me, as a child, to use my right hand for everything. So my dominant right brain, which should control the left of my body, is being forced to control the right, which is actually cross-innervated with my left brain. I am functionally crippled.
ReplyDeleteOne of the many, many, many things I will never forgive my parents for.
In other news, we had hailstorms today. Twice.
Not sure if you ever can trust chickens.
ReplyDeleteI tend to walk on nature trails with camera in hand, looking for birds, alligators, fish, turtles, you name it. And then I had a brand new camera in my hands and stumbled over a root. All I could think was to raise my hands that held the camera. I looked a bit disheveled (huge understatement), but the camera was unharmed. I'm just glad there's no video of that incident.
nasty bump there; I blame the chickens!
ReplyDeleteWell, at least you didn't raise a "goose egg" on your forehead! Yeah, I know but it's as close as I could come to making a pun using "chicken." I suspect you slipped on chicken shit going out the door.
ReplyDeleteI guess your days of modeling are over, after that fall?
ReplyDeleteNasty bump. I hope no scars. Damn chickens are worse than cats for trying to kill you. I have scars on my forehead and in several places on top of my head from walking into things while watching where I put my feet. Why do we do that?
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to your spring thaw pictures. Ol' Blue Eyes does seem to be looking forward to spring. I wish him green grass to the hocks.
I too am a chronic klutx. I always have bruises, and frequently abrasions. And at the moment am limping on both legs. It 'ought' to even up my gait. But it doesn't.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the eggs from the vicious, sneaky birds.
Did you see stars? Did you break any eggs? Did you have chicken pot pie for supper recently? SO MANY QUESTIONS.
ReplyDeleteDakota is beautiful. Handsome. Whichever applies.
Take care of your noggin.
Well, a few scars is just a signal that you've led an interesting life ... (says he whose first memory is hitting himself in the head with a hammer at age 3.)
ReplyDeleteDonna, There is indeed a high price to pay for fresh eggs!
ReplyDeleteBill, My best friend was a lefty, but played guitar right handed. I always knew which side of him to be on after the first few years. They had also tried to force him to be right handed, so I understand your pain. Stupid bastards. Sorry for your personal hail.
Pixel P, I would have the same instinct to protect the camera at all costs. We will likely heal, but probably not our cameras.
anne marie, I usually try and blame someone else whenever possible and don't think chickens can't defend themselves!
Debra, It wouldn't be the first time I slipped in shit.
Sioux, Yes, my modeling career is on hold until I get that face transplant.
Blog Fodder, I nearly always wear a hat as I am prone to bashing my head into whatever is handy. Already seeing some buds thicken and a few blades of green grass.
Elephants Child, I am finally able to walk straight since the knees were replaced, but decades of bad muscle memory is fighting me. I keep telling the chickens that I am eating their babies. Maybe that is why they sabotage my life.
jenny_o, No stars per se unless you include Elvis. Pretty sure I saw him as I tried to get back up. Didn't break any eggs (protected at all costs like the camera)and a chicken pot pie might taste pretty good about now. Dakota knows he is those things. He just wants to make sure that WE know.
Tom S, I guess I really HAVE lived a good one so far. Glad you knocked some sense into your head at such an early age. The fact that you remember it is even better.
them chickens are mean ..always hated chickens..they are cute and fluffy and mean ...
ReplyDeleteyou sound like me..I trip over air.
Chickens. Can't ever trust em!
ReplyDeletedakota
ReplyDeletelove him
And...keep an eye on those chickens.
ReplyDeleteJACKIESUE, Their dinosaur genes come through now and then. Sometimes they look at me and drool.
ReplyDeleteVapid Vixen, They are not to be trifled with. Don't let their stupid appearance fool you.
John Gray, I am still impressed with your sister.
AL P, Since I don't have to blog every day for a month you would think I might have the time to figure out their plot to get me.
Owie. Hope you're all healed up by now, and I side with you against the chickens. I hate them. At a distance, they're fine. Up close, they're evil-looking and smelly. Gutting and plucking them, they're even smellier. By the time the chicken's in the pot, I'm not interested in eating chicken anymore. But I must say I'm fond of them when they're pre-plucked, pre-cleaned, pre-dismembered, and ice-cold in their nice little plastic trays in the supermarket. ;-)
ReplyDeleteDiane, The Cooker has to wear rubber gloves when "processing" chickens as her hands break out in a rash. Commercial processing is why we need all our illegal immigrants working for substandard wages. Otherwise there wouldn't be those neat packages or chicken McNuggets. The world would stop turning on its axis without those things.
ReplyDeleteSo... float like a chicken, sting like its coop?
ReplyDeleteOuch! One more good reason to be vegan ;)
ReplyDeleteABFTS, More like sting like an egg. You know how they feel when someone throws it at your head, right?
ReplyDeleteRiot Kitty, I have received MANY injuries from plants. Poison ivy and trees in general. Although I have asked for an awful lot from trees.
Oh no, I'm sorry, Jono. I hope it's healed by now, and I'm glad it wasn't worse.
ReplyDeleteWow. That's a vicious pecker. You must have made it mad. Hope you are all healed up.
ReplyDeleteOuch! I hope your head is healing well.
ReplyDeleteHere, too, the birds are singing in a raucous and beautiful wild choir. The cardinals, bluejays, and robins are all singing variations of "MINE! MY TREE! Get out of my territory!"