Catch that Chicken!!!!

Do the laundry and catch that chicken!!!!!!!!!!!!

The problem with free range chickens…

Just got an emergency message from my Mom whose room is downstairs. There is chicken walking around and around the house! I fly down the stairs and out to the aviary. Sure enough there are only four hens wandering around in there. Then I see her, on small Aracauna standing behind the aviary foraging away! We’re chicken sitting. I used to have a menagerie of cute little animals. Ducks, Pygmy goats, pigs, rabbits and of course chickens. But, once the twins came to live with us I couldn’t manage my little hobby farm and take care of the boys like they deserve. So, I downsized the farm to a pair of cats and a pair of little elven twins. That was a year and a half ago.

Our dear friends, Barb and Bill have gone on vacation. Their previous chicken sitter (their neighbor) moved away. So, I was lucky enough to get the job. I was excited to have my back yard blessed by the little pecker faces once again! The only problem is, I’m not fenced in. I have a pretty decent sized aviary (20×20) but, to a flock that is accustomed to free ranging all day, it’s just a cage. But, it’s a vacation. Two weeks, not a life time. The thing is, you can’t reason with a chicken. And you also can’t lure a free range chicken with cracked corn. When my chickens escaped in the past, they were confused and eager to receive the customary treat of a trail of chicken feed back to the aviary. They weren’t sure what to do or where to go anyway. But, this chicken of Barb and Bill’s oh, uhn uh! She ain’t about to have that! Catch me if you can! My corn had no effect on her as she scrambled through the brush stopping long enough to let me see her as she’d nibble up some tasty morsel from the ground and take off again. Ever seen the Road Runner? Those are real, you know! I think this chicken might’ve been fertilized with one before she was hatched!

How to ctch a chx

So, after stumbling around the yard, falling on my face and impaling myself on branches and trees, I have decided that I have given it my best shot. I will delegate this job to my 14 year old son when he gets home from school. And if he can’t catch her, I will happily spend the $4.00 to replace her. But, I imagine that she’ll try to get back into the aviary come evening time. That’s how they do at home. So, that was one snippet of my Wednesday afternoon. Hump Day! Ha! Ha! Ha!



Well, that is not what I planned to write about today. But, it’s real life!

Some things to think about as you wrap up this Wednesday. There are so many different facets to one person’s life.


How can we ever truly know a person? Most people don’t even really know themselves. Soon, I would like to write about the different aspects of a person’s life the things that make us different and the ties that bind. Stay tuned.



As I Lay Dying



I’d like to share an experience that I had last Friday night. I think it will shed some light on diabetes and food addiction for those who don’t understand. Hopefully those who suffer with this type of self harm may be encouraged to find that they are not alone. Many people think of self harm as cutting or taking drugs, even smoking cigarettes. But, not many people see food as an addiction. Carbs are my kryptonite. Especially chocolate. It is a rare instance when I am able to resist chocolate. If I know that it is in reach, it becomes an obsession. It’s all I can think about until I get it in my mouth. I can’t simply eat a single serving. I must eat every last morsel no matter the cost! Say what you want about my lack of self- discipline. I’m an addict as much as the pot head down the street who swears that marijuana isn’t addictive.chocolate understands

I went to bed with a crushing headache. I didn’t think too much of it because I had gobbled down four, count them, four large dark chocolate bars today. One before I ever got up this morning. I went to brunch with my Son, my Mom and the twins. We were home by 11:30am. I put the stinkers down for a nap and lay down, myself. I put a movie on Netflix and proceeded to gobble down the other three bars. It was just so yummy. I knew that I had more, so I just kept eating them until they were all gone. Then, I went to sleep. Of course, I woke up with a headache. I took my meds. I made sure to include the Metformin , which lowers my blood sugar. Had “Pub Subs” with the family for dinner and the headache sent me back to bed.  I moaned and groaned about my headache. Of course, I did not admit to my husband that I was literally overdosing on chocolate. All I could do was suffer through it. I woke with a sudden shock around 12am. I could barely move, I knew that I was in trouble. I began calling to my Husband for help. “Babe! Baby! I need help! Please! Help me!” He didn’t move. He was asleep with his CPAP on. He couldn’t hear me and I couldn’t move to get his attention. I continued to cry out. Help me! Please, help me! I picked up the tv remote that he had given me before he went to sleep. It was still lying across my chest. I thought that if I could just get the tv on, the light and sound would stir him. But, as I tried to push the on button, I realized that I didn’t have the strength. I was practically paralyzed. I knew what was happening. I had seen other diabetics go through similar episodes when I worked as a Nurses Aid in hospitals and nursing homes. My sugar was too high, I could feel it. My mouth was so dry, I realized as the remote hit the floor that in all my efforts to wake my husband, I had never actually uttered a sound!Death_by_chocolate_(5119851313).jpg Oh, God! I am going to lay here and die! I am having a stroke and it’s going to kill me! Please! Help me! Suddenly, I had the strength to reach down and pick up that remote. I turned on the tv, turned down the sound and found myself getting out of bed, grabbing my water and my medicine and going into the bathroom. The recovery was nothing short of miraculous. I quickly washed my hands and pricked my finger. No dilly dallying over the anxiety of the pain of the tiny prick that would draw my blood. Not this time. I knew that I was being given a chance here and I wasn’t about to draw it out. Prick and squeeze. Thick red blood popped to the surface of my left middle finger faster than I had ever seen. It seemed as though the very blood in my body knew that there was no time to waste. I applied my finger to the test strip and read the result. 201. 201? Now, I know that is higher than recommended. However, the day that I received the news that I was diabetic, I was standing in my Doctor’s office in tampa where they had just tested my sugar out at over 300 and I felt fine. How strange this whole experience… Still, I wasn’t fooling around. I took 1000mg of Metformin; my regular bedtime dose. I followed up with my sinus pill and my cholesterol pill. All the while, all I was thinking was that either my tester is broken, or God had drastically driven down my blood sugar in a matter of seconds in order to give me the strength and the where with all to get out of bed and get my meds in me. I believe that to be the case. Now, I’m quite tired, but, I am going to stay awake long enough to retest my sugar in an hour.


As you can see, I was entirely out of control that day. I put myself into a dangerous position. But, even as I was eating those chocolate bars, I was thinking of the consequences and the addict in me was able to convince the logical me that it was worth the risk. See, my body doesn’t always react badly to this type of binging. Sometimes I can eat a whole cheesecake and I’m fine. So, I had a 50/50 shot at being ok. I took it. I nearly died. Even though there was no big scene with an ambulance and the hospital, I have no doubt that I was on death’s doorstep. That desperate prayer saved me. God saved me this time. Who knows what will happen next time if I even wake up.

I haven’t gone on a binge since then. I know that I had a close call. I am not completely off of sugar, although I should be. But, I am not planning to ever repeat that experience again. I want to be healthy and strong.



Monday Blues

Barely 1:00PM on Monday afternoon and I’m already done in. With so much more to do, entertaining the idea of a nap seems ludicrous. Something I haven’t shared yet is that I suffer from several inflammatory disorders. I live with chronic pain and a foggy brain. I have fibromyalgia which is the least of my problems. I also have Rheumatoid Arthritis, diabetes and this lovely little gift called Behcet’s Syndrome. Normally I try to live my life as if I am perfectly healthy. I try to take my medications on time and eat a balanced diet. But, other than that, I try to proceed as if I were an average homemaker. Unfortunately for me, I do have to stop in the middle of most days to nap or at least lie down for a while. I am blessed to be a stay at home Mom/ wife. I have a great husband. He wants me to maintain my health as much as possible. He is not concerned about my poor housekeeping or lousy dinners as long as I have time for him when he gets home from work. He is amazing. So, as the little guys slip off to dream land this nappy time, I gobble down a quick lunch of leftovers and gulp down a nice cool glass of water, kick off my shoes and pull the covers over my head. I am blessed.

Yes, I did just take a siesta in the middle of my blog. I can’t sleep all day, though. I do have things that I need to do in order to keep my own sanity. I think about other people in the world who live with the same health issues I have. Some are in really great shape. They work full time. They’re faithful to the gym. They have a sparkling clean home and serve up three good meals each day for their families. Why is it that they can manage all that and I’m down for the count by 1:00pm?

Anyway, I never did get to sleep. But, I did rest for a while. I have a lot of pain in my hands lately. I always have pain. But, this is more than average. I blame it on the weather. Hot, Cold, Hot, Cold…so forth and so on. I’m also experiencing quite a bit of pain in my mouth. It’s difficult to distinguish if it’s a toothache, sinus inflammation, or the Behcet’s raring it’s ugly head with a canker coming up along my gum line. Last month, I had a trail of them going down my throat. If you think you’ve ever had a sore throat… I bit my lip yesterday. That’s sure to turn into something miserable. I’ve already bitten the same spot twice since then due to the swelling. This post may seem gross to some readers. But, hey, this is real life. Those of you who like to write horror should look into auto immune disorders. You would certainly learn some scary things about how the human body treats itself. I feel like a baby teething right now. I want something to chew on that will ease the pain. But, like yesterday, it goes as quickly as it comes sometimes. Yesterday I felt the pain for hours on end. Then, I noticed it had disappeared; only to torture me today. I know there are people out in the world with much worse problems. But, this is what I am living right now. And truthfully, other peoples’ horrible situations may put my misery into perspective; that’s the reason I rarely complain aloud. But, their situations don’t make mine suck any less.

I’m done with being self absorbed for the day. It’s 2:30. The twins are waking from their naps and I have plenty to do for my family. A bright spot to this afternoon is that we are having Bible Study tonight instead of Wednesday night. So, I will enjoy the company of good friends and good food. As well as, different perspectives on the Word of the Lord. Always a blessing!

Yes, I am a professing Christian. It may be hard to believe if you have read some of previous posts. But, one thing the world needs to know about true believers. We are not perfect and never claim to be. We’re real people living real lives. We just want to be like Christ as much as we can in our finite humanity. And we want to be with Him when this world passes away. But, Christianity is a deep and rich subject that is owed it’s own post on another day. Maybe this week I can do a special post regarding Easter vs Ishtar. That is a pretty deep well. In the meantime, I will see you all tomorrow when, hopefully, I will be able to think straight. God Bless and Good night~Monday 2

~Saturday wrap up~

Good Saturday to all. It’s a lovely rainy Saturday morning here in little ole’ Masaryktown. I have always loved rainy days for reading and cuddling and sleeping late. Rainy days are for relaxing and, of course, if you’re blessed with a love match, nothing beats a slow tumble in the sheets while raindrops make their way off the roof and down the panes. Alas, our household is too busy for that today. One can only hope that it’s still dripping this evening.

Saturdays my husband, Troy, works half days. I try to get the laundry done and the kiddos worn out so that by the time he gets home, we can run errands together and the stinkers don’t mind cruising around in my “magic school bus” watching Elmo videos while we drive through McD’s and grab some fries, drive through the pharmacy, drive through the bank, run into the abyss that’s known as Wal-mart. Our little guys think that it’s normal for a married couple and family to do this regularly as Mom and Dad hold hands and sing along to the radio; the boogies happily munch their fries and kick their feet along to Elmo music. I’m glad they think it’s normal. Hopefully it will stick with them as they grow. Troy and I are both remarried. Second marriage for each of us. Needless to say, our older kids know better. They saw the way life was with the exes. They have also taken notice of the sharply contrasting difference in our marriage to one another. Yes, this is how it should be. It’s not perfect. But, it’s pretty close! Now, we’ve certainly endured hardship as you will learn when you get to know me better. But for now, just know that even though a rainy tumble in the sheets is out for us today, we are still going to have a good time together.

Saturday is the last day of the work week for Troy and also for me. Sundays has always been our day to chillax and stay in bed or at least in our bedroom as long as possible. Yes, I just said “chillax” maybe some of you will guess my age from the slang I tend to use! I would like to try to take Saturdays to kind of wrap up some of the questions that I have posed throughout the week. As well as, to share some things about myself and my life with you all.

So, here are some of the things that I have learned throughout this week:

#1- Just from the responses I received I can tell that there’s a lot of people out there hiding their crazy.

#2- Queen Victoria was a sexy beast!

#3- No one seems to know where the term “fine as apple wine” came from.

I did pose a serious question the other day about writer’s block. What I’ve learned, based on several writers’ collaborative research, is that there are several reasons for writer’s block. Depending on how you feel and what behavior is exhibited, you can pretty much self-diagnose. Either you become quickly drowsy, stare at the screen or off into space, you become restless or you re-write the same passage over and over. Then there is actual depression. I would like to write about this at some point in the future with diligent research. But, for now, If you are curious about it here are a couple of websites that have great information.

This was a really great first week. I want to thank all of my readers and followers. Your input means the world to me. Please feel free to leave me any comments or questions. Remember, I’m new to this! But, so far, I’m loving it! Please share my page!

Thanks so much!

Angieelmo videofries

Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?

Many readers will recognize my title as the gypsyish/ witchy line written and sung by Stevie Nicks in the Fleetwood Mac hit, “Dreams”. I’ve always felt strongly about this song. It almost feels like it came right out of my own head. Stevie wrote this song in 1977. 1977 was a big year in the U.S. Just a few highlights from that year: Panama was granted control of the Panama Canal. Usage of the Alaskan Oil Pipeline began. Jimmy Carter was elected President. The World Trade Center was completed. The NASA Space Shuttle had it’s first test flight. Star Wars came out in theaters. I was born and Elvis died.

As I said, I was born in 1977 amidst the dreamy, somewhat drug induced, genius of Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac. It seems almost as if I was born into a web of dreams. I was a dreamy child. I often zoned out into my fantasy world. My Mom said I had a vivid imagination. But, I always thought it was more. What child has recurring nightmares of their best friend being murdered and chopped up? What child experiences lucid dreams; thinking that they have awoken from a dream only to find themselves waking up from the dream again and again until they are not sure if they are actually awake. I often asked my Mother if I was awake. I honestly didn’t know.

I was very intuitive. People thought I was a little strange; too quiet they would say. Why did I , “not smile more?”, they would say. I thought they were simply unobservant to what was happening around them. I could almost feel the goings on of creation and the spirit world around us. I told my mom about being attacked in the night by, “Light People”. But, then, I also told her I’d met the “Fruit of the Loom” guys. I was never taken seriously. Just a little girl with a big imagination. I learned to keep quiet about my creepy dreams. I stopped telling people my intuitions. I never did learn to walk around smiling. Something might escape my mouth!

Later in life, I learned a lot about night dreams and daydreams. It is a long held belief in the Psychology community that dreams are usually just a means for our minds to work out the things that happen during the day so that we can sort things out and move on with our sanity intact. I believe that is true a lot of times. But, what about the other times? The times when you can’t wake up because you’re already awake? But, are you really? What about the dreams where demons chase you and you stutter out a prayer of protection in your sleep? Where you’re so filled with terror that even after your spouse wakes you to stop your screaming you sit up wide eyed and wild. You want the lights on and you don’t go back to sleep for hours. What about the quiet moments when you are walking along or just relaxing on the couch and you begin to see or hear yourself in a battle against evil? Too much? It is for most people. “Those are hallucinations”, they say. Hmmm…are they really? Or are YOU simply in denial? But, there again, that is why I’ve learned to keep my “visions to myself”.

Over the years I think I’ve kind of learned to discern between spiritual dreams and what my friend calls, “pizza dreams”. It helps to say a prayer and ask the Holy Spirit to help you understand anything that you need to know and dump the rest. It helps to write about the dreams or sometimes you can’t remember and you just have these residual feelings of horror or grief or confusion. Those times seem to inspire poetry in me. I could spend half a day writing about my “night life”. I’ve done it before. I’ve been late to work among other things.

I often think that there should be some kind of dream support group. But, then, that might be pretty weird. I’d probably get Baker Acted. God only knows what weirdos would show up to those. Disturbed people, attention seeking people, confused people and no doubt, predators. So, I guess that’s why I’ve never seen an advertisement for one.

Best to stick to writing about my dreams. Weaving them into stories that couldn’t possibly be real…or could they? Creating blogs and books that entertain most people. There will be that small percentage that identify. They will find some glint of truth in my crystaline web. They will understand where I am coming from. They will be the ones walking around with their mouths firmly clamped shut. Not smiling even if they are just such a “lovely girl” or “handsome boy”. They have learned to keep their mouths closed and not appear approachable. Lest they fall into a conversation which will invariably lead to dream talk.

So, I will weave my dreams into an acceptable presentation. I will sell my woven dreams, and  other dreamers will see the truth and realize that they are not alone.


Fine As Apple Wine

Who said it first? I thought it was my Grandpa. But, in checking my facts on the W.W.W., I found at least two other places where the term was used. I truly have never heard anyone but Grandpa, and me say it. Even the elderly people that I used to care for when I worked in nursing homes never recognized it. So, although I don’t know the original author, I Feel like I did.

I do realize that today is St. Patrick’s Day. It should be a day of celebration and fun. A day to be fine as apple wine. But, I’m not fine today. Not even apple wine could make a difference. You see, today is the fourth anniversary of my Brother’s death. It was very sudden and he was very young. I am now 1 year older than my older brother. Einstein discovered the theory of relativity. I always found it to be peripherally interesting. But, it was never really all that relative to me. But, thinking about my Brother today…he was three years older than me. Now I am one year older than him. My thoughts are a bit jumbled today. Really they have been pretty much all week.  It’s strange. I try not to let it effect me. But, I always seem to end up sick in bed this time each year. I literally slept all day yesterday and all night. I woke for two hours and went back to sleep. I woke up with a splitting headache that will just not let go. There must be a name for this sort of thing. Some kind of seasonal or cyclical depression? I don’t know. Hopefully I will sleep okay tonight. Hopefully I will be fine as apple wine tomorrow.

Until then, drink some good whiskey. Maybe a sip of green beer. And enjoy the good times. Slàinteslainte

On writing

Queen Victoria created quite a collection of personal journals. It is believed that she wrote an average of 2500 words daily. I wonder quite often how a person can keep a journal so faithfully. And 2500 words daily? That’s incredible! I’d like to take a peek at those journals just to see what in the world did she have so much to talk about. I know that she was a very important person. Still…EVERY DAY!

If Queen Victoria actually wrote 2500ish pages daily, that throws up a serious challenge to the term “Writer’s Block”. So many writers, even those that are well-known, experience this awful phenomenon. It threatens their careers and their financial stability. It suggests a feeling of being out of control. That is, not being in control of one’s thoughts enough to suss out a coherent thought to scratch down. Being that Her Majesty was able to put pen to paper and churn out over 2000 words each day, I am of the opinion that Writer’s Block does not actually exist. I hypothesize that “Writer’s Block” is actually a form of depression.

Now, let’s not go getting all worked up here. I said that it is my hypothesis. That means that in order to establish my opinion into a fact, I will be doing research on the subject. I will let everyone know what I find. In the mean time, feel free to share your thoughts. But, please be kind to me as well as to others who take the time to  comment.