The Fair, Day 2- The Busiest Day

The Fair. The Busiest Day. This, for our family, has traditionally been, and continues to be Tuesday of The Fair. And, as the above photo will tell you, in 2012, quite a successful day. This is the day for the Poultry Show and the Sheep Show. The poultry begin showing at 10 am, and the sheep not until 3. You might be deceived into thinking this would mitigate any conflicts of the show arena, but you would be decidedly wrong. Year after year, the kid showing the sheep is required to be in both places at once. So, we are getting pretty good at the routine.

It starts in the morning with bathing the chickens. You do this to get them super clean and shiny. Dove soap in a bucket of water. They they get Vaseline on their feet, beaks and combs. If it is chilly, you blow them dry with a hairdryer. A toothbrush cleans any stubborn poop bits out of their feet, and you make sure the vent area (where the poo/pee comes out) is super clean.   In the picture above, Middlest shows a younger teammate how to bathe his pullet (young hen). The girls had their 4 chickens to get ready, and Youngest had his two ducks to prepare for show. The ducks are pretty easy, they don't mind a bath atall!

 

Then, on to the sheep. This is more complicated. The market lamb- February- is "slick sheared", so pretty easy to clean off. He just gets a bath. But not so the breeding lamb. Finn is covered in curly thick wool, and after being in a shavings-filled pen for a few days, that wool has little shavings embedded all through. First, each little bit of wood needs to be picked out. It is best to enlist the help of friends! Thanks, Audi!

Then, the sheep needs to be "fitted". This means made pretty for the breed standard. For the Border Leicester, she gets "shaped", around the belly, legs and neck. Then the whole sheep is completely evened out with the hand shears. These suckers are super sharp! Middlest is learning to handle them without hurting anyone.

When the poultry show begins, they start with turkeys. This is because they don't do well in the heat, and they need to have the first turn so they don't keel over. Unfortunately, one of the turkeys died in the show arena! It belonged to a boy in our club, and he was devastated. Louie, the deceased,  was quickly dressed out so he could fulfill his original purpose, but the poor kid had a "non-optimal" experience.

 The judge was "BuckeyeMan". He is a well known fixture at all the Ohio State football games. Also, a professor emeritus at OSU in Poultry Science, and the long time coach of the poultry judging team, BuckeyeMan is one of our favorites. Super knowledgeable, great with the kids, and loves those birds, he shares his passion with the young'uns.

This year, it looked like our kids knew what they were doing. Eldest brought home the blue for Fancy Poultry in the standard size!

Middlest earned second! Quite a sweep. The two birds on the left of the photo are Middlest's and the two on the right are Eldests...although Middlest would argue that they are all hers. She would probably be right, but Eldest rose before dawn each morning this year to care for the hens, and earn the right to show a pair.

The Triumphant Poultry Sisters.

And, Youngest. Here he is with friend, and teammate, Adam M. showing his Buff ducks. His original pair of birds had been killed by raccoons two weeks before The Fair. But these Buffs were to have been next year's show birds, and got the understudy job. They turned out to be a sensational choice, earning second place in Fancy Ducks!

While Youngest was showing his ducks, Middlest was being called in the  Market Sheep Show ring. Up she went with February, a "wool sheep" being shown in her market class full of "meat sheep".

Here the judge feels February for his condition and muscle development. He looked different, but showed pretty well, and I was so proud of Middlest for breeding and raising her very own market project. That is becoming more unusual. Many children purchase a lamb in the spring, and just raise it and show it.

In the end, February placed a respectable 4th place. Plus, the judge has had his first look at Middlest, and no doubt realized that February was a Border Leicester, and not normally considered a "market lamb."

Meanwhile....as  Middlest is finishing up with February, in the poultry arena, Eldest is in a heated battle in the Senior Fancy Poultry Showmanship class. She knows her stuff, has been diligently studying, and probably can recite the bulk of the American Standard of Perfection for Poultry.

Here, Eldest and two of her Senior Showmanship competitors, and teammates, give the thumbs up that they have answered all of the first round of questions correctly.

And, eldest is ready for round two. And three... but she is disappointed when she learns that in round one another competitor had captured the title by answering all the questions in a more complete fashion. The subsequent rounds were all to decide on second through fourth. She lands in second place, and graciously accepts her disappointment.

Next up? The Intermediate Fancy Poultry Showmanship contest. In a larger field, that includes both Middlest, and, now, Youngest! The age range is 10-13. A spectator taps me on the shoulder and asks me if this will turn into a battle between my two offspring. I roll my eyes, and say it is unlikely. Poor Youngest is competing with the bigger dogs now. But, as I watch, the unlikely happens.

Middlest gets moved into the first position, indicating she is currently in the lead. And as BuckeyeMan asks Youngest and his surrounding competitors more and more questions, Youngest keeps getting moved up, until....they are standing next to one another. He is in second. Yikes!

At this point, I am nervous, as over the loud speaker they have been calling Middlest's sheep breeding class. Eldest has been running back and forth to the main arena to let them know about the conflict, and they've put the Border Leicesters off until last, but last has come. So, I boldly poke the poultry show organizer on the shoulder and ask "Is she in first place, for certain?" He answers, "Yes." So, I ask if she can scoot off to the sheep show. The victor in the Intermediate Poultry Showmanship leaves as the battle for second rages behind.

And, in the end, Youngest is placed third, missing a question about a chick brooder and a light and a draft.... but, still, a victory!

Making biggest sis very proud!

And, I dash off to the sheep show, in time to see Middlest show her Spring Ewe Lamb in the battle for  Grand Champion Overall Breeding Sheep. The judge likes little Finn. I can tell, he keeps looking at her, and the calm, intent Middlest, keeping Finn in just the right spot.

Bingo! Grand Champion Breeding Sheep! Wow!!!

That contest was about the sheep. Who has the most correct animal to continue the breeding line. But this contest, this is the weighty one in my book. This is about the kid. Who can show the sheep to it's best advantage. This is Sheep Showmanship. Middlest shows her sheep in "breeding style". That means she stays low and tries to be unobtrusive. She merely keeps a hand under Finn's chin, and leads her around like that, then crouches down behind, "setting her up" so her feet are square and her chin is high. She is the only one in the game that does this, the other kids showing their market sheep stand up and square the lamb's feet, then "brace" them, by pulling them up in the front and making them hold their weight in their haunches, showing off their meaty little rumps. So, Middlest is the one neatly hidden behind Finn.

The judge deliberated and deliberated, and pulled out all but three kids. The last three were all very good showman, and he was having a hard time deciding who was the best. So, he had them change sheep. Here Middlest is bracing (kind of) a market sheep while the other girl tries to control Finn. Middlest makes that task look easy, but Finn isn't much of a people-sheep, and doesn't really like to be touched. You could say she was uncooperative. Still, both other competitors managed to hold onto her, and coped with the switch-up.

But, the judge thought Middlest was his one. His #1. Here he has placed her in first, but is talking to her, asking questions and giving her tips. Now, remember, he's seen her showing a market Border Leicester, and now this breeding one, and he realizes this is one of the kids that is growing her own. So, he asked her about her flock. And, having seen him switch places around after a line up in Senior Sheep Showmanship already today, I'm not ready to start Whooping yet.

But, now, Whoop away!!! She's done it! First place and Grand Champion Border Leicester, Grand Champion Overall Breeding Sheep, and now the icing on that cake- Intermediate Sheep Showman!

Serious "TA-DA!"

Busy day, successful day. And so proud of all three!!

The Fair, Day 1.

The County Fair, AKA, The Fair.
Am I becoming a native?
Does the happenings at The Fair cease to be strange and intriguing?
Why does "spell check " seldomly work on blogspot?
Evidently, bad question. We lost power again for about an hour, in another terrific wind. Just as Huz arrived back home from returning the borrowed generator. So thankful to have that modern,'lectric back again!
Fortunately, Fair week had the typical weather, with blazing heat, but no tornadoes or camper-rocking windstorms.
Saturday pre-fair week is our day to move in with the camper. We rent- usually a "GreyWolf" and this year it was the same set up inside with a few extra feet...making our turning radius even more ridiculous than usual. Middlest and I must've felt we had extra weekend time, because she elected to go to the Pony Club rating that morning. To be fair, there is only one day in the spring, and one day in the fall, and she didn't want to wait until fall, so I said we'd make it happen. So, we did, leaving Huz to petition a buddy with a truck to accompany him to the camper rental office.  Middlest successfully accomplished all sections in the D2 rating, and was awarded that level. We arrived home early afternoon to the camper parked in the garden. Eldest had already done a bang-up job of loading the camper, so a few more bits and pieces, and Huz and I were off! To The Fair, me having to follow, because my truck is rigged for the electric on my trailer and the camper has one brake light and the turn signals both go on the left signal. It's subtle, but the right is very faint.  Good enough to drive back from Kentucky at night. At least that's what I told myself when I purchased the trailer in Lexington....but that's another story.
Sunday is the official "Move In Day" for The Fair. This means all your animals must be in place by midnight on Sunday night. Moving animals in the heat of the day is unneccesarily stressful, and so most critters come in between 9pm and midnight. We certainly wanted to avoid this crush, as with my big long rig, I didn't want to have to negotiate backwards through piggelty-wigglety vehicles in the dark. So, we planned to come in with the hogs early in the morning, by nine, and then travel over with the sheep and the poultry (two pens of Australorp chickens and one pen of Buff ducks) by noon.
I showed off my "skillz" backing those hogs right up to the gate... after it took a good 40 minutes to convince Willis to go on the trailer. What finally swayed him was my scratching him behind his ears, all the way up the improvised(mulch with a piece of plywood over top) ramp. My formal designation as "ornamental" since my crash, (girl meets wall), has meant I've got fingernails. The first since, maybe my pregancy with Middlest?( this is my guess since with Youngest I was renovating a house in Oklahoma and then moved in month two? and renovated a house in Ohio for the rest of preganancy. We had knocked out walls when I delivered Youngest.  Sledgehammers and ornamental fingernails are not co-habitive).  And the hogs are appreciative of my decor. Huz seems appreciative of my scratching his back too....not that I should compare him to the hogs.

 Sunday night is the designated "Fun Contest". Clubs get together teams of 6. Our club, of 81 members, fielded 3 teams.....fully 1/3 of all the participants. In this photo, I think the boy in red, and the boy in yellow are the only non- Saddle and Sirloin competitors.

 The tug-o-war. Largely Saddle and Sirloin versus Saddle and Sirloin. Saddle and Sirloin won!

 For me, and likely even for Middlest, this was the coolest thing that happened at The Fair this year. ( And a lot of cool things happened to her at The Fair this year.)See, Middlest's birthday always falls somewhere either in last minute Fair prep, or during The Fair. Thus, her birthday gets swallowed into everything else. For a country kid, it is similar to having a Christmas birthday. But this year waaaay cooooool....she got flamingoed! The first day of the fair was her 14th birthday, and we woke in the morning to a camper-yard full of flamingoes, 46? in all, each one cut out by hand and individually painted. It was the best!!! I know I thought it was so kind of someone to go out of their way to show Middlest they find her to be truly special.On the last night of the fair, while we were sitting just yards away, they mysteriously disappeared again- leaving one behind for a memory. (Its the swirly one on the far left of the photo).


Monday at The Fair has traditionally found me at the horse arena, which is about as far as you can get from the barns and still be on the grounds. This year, although Middlest did a horse project, we did not bring any horses with us to The Fair. May I say, it was a bit wonderful- horses are a lot of work, and when they are closed up in a 10x10 box all day and night, it just isn't "fair". So, we walk them, and ride them and graze them and bathe them for coolness- altogether spending a lot of time. So, without horses, this year I got to see and participate in "Weigh-in". This is the process by which all the market animals are weighed. This has two purposes. When they leave on the truck for the "packer", the packer knows how much each animal weighs, and pays the "producer"( read "4-H kid")  for that particular animal. Also, in order to show your animal at The Fair, it has to "make weight". This means that for many of the shows, the market species must be within a certain weight range to be shown. If it is too light or too heavy, you may not show them. This can be a real disappointment for a kid, so weigh in day can be a bit heavy. ( Was that funny?)

 In the photo above, a turkey is being weighed. The largest that day? 46lbs. That's one big roaster!

This is Middlest (in the red stripes) who has led February(her lamb) into the scales and then stepped out. They are watching him look around for her while the officials over on the right of the photo read the scale reading and write down his weight. Febbie needed to be over 90 lbs, and he weighed in at 106. This put him in the lightest weight class for the show. The maximum weight was 140 lbs.

 Wilber and Willis wait for their turn at the scales. Or rather, I wait somewhat trepidatiously for our turn at the scales. See, Youngest was tied up showing his dogs in the Grange building, and thus the weighing of the hogs was left to me. I was not confident that I could get two hogs to go where I wished them to go. So lacking in confidence that I asked a teen boy that appeared hog-savvy to take charge of one of the oinkers. Sure enough our turn came and amidst squeals and the clanging of gates, the hogs, a helpful fellow and I made it to the scales. They had to be more than 220lbs and less than 280 lbs. They weighed in at 245lbs and 255 lbs. Youngest did well!

 This is Youngest showing Julia in Dog Obedience. I was confident that it would be disastrous. Julia is very sweet, and willing, but the boy didn't put much time in on training, and part of his Obedience class had to be done in an open arena without a leash, surrounded by spectators. Luckiest darn kid, ever. Julia was a marvel of concentration and patience. She did all her off lead work amazingly well. Like she had been trained. In fact, right up until the last requirement the pair had lost only 17 of 230 pts. That is an astonishingly high score. But a confused Julia did not know the hand signal for "recall", and they lost 20 points in the last section. Still, they scored quite well, and I was proud of our new blackdog, and Youngest's blithe surety that it would be just dandy.

Tucker, on the other hand, has been through the arena a couple times, and even earned an "Outstanding Exhibitor" award at the Ohio State Fair last year with Youngest as handler. Even so, I was even more confident that this would be a great spectator sport. Because of his having shown before, they were to show in the Novice Class, and most of the movements would be done off leash. Sure enough, Tucker did fantastically well on the heeling on lead, and the figure 8 on lead. He was a star for the "Stand for Exam", which was off lead. But when it came to Youngest walking around the room, Tucker, leash-free and supposed to "heel", Tuck decided he was done and came to find me. Oops.

The Boss, having a half tea/half lemonade. Watchin' the dog show.

Youngest and Tucker in the "long down" portion, which is 3 minutes. Tucker was a champ, Youngest lost focus ( and the only two points taken from the pair in the last 60 points) by looking around at the crowd, checking his pockets, counting his money, doing a few spins....

For the awards, the trio wait patiently.

Although Julia scored higher, the competition was greater, and they earned third. Tucker and Youngest, though, brought home the blue- despite having heeling issues.

After the dog show? Line up for the parade in the heat! The parade ends with the King and Queen contest. Our large club was fortunate enought to field two candidates for Queen this year. The candidates ride on a car, or the back of a truck, and their club marches alongside.

Our club, when not packed together, take up a lot of space!

I could only get about half our marchers in the photo.

 During the contest, while the judges deliberated, we were so pleased to have one of our club members receive the highest honor given to a male 4-H member. The Service award, given to Evan F.! Congratulations!!!

Also during the King and Queen contest, the fair booths are judged. Our creative and awesome booth, done by the Fair booth committee (co-chaired by Middlest) was a Fairytale theme. The given title they had to work with was "Sew it, Grow it, Show it".  They split it into three sections, with a "Sew it like Cinderella" (the pink dress being assembled by the birds and mice), "Grow it like Jack and the Beanstalk" ( the 3-D green stem growing into the clouds- boot and leg at the top) and "Show it like a true 4-H'er!" ( the clovers and the projects) In the middle, they had made a large book, with the posters from all 100+ projects inside. I loved the booth and thought they did an exciting job!  Alas, as usual, the club booth was skipped over for any recognition.

Now, nearing the day after Middlest's birthday, all barn chores and showing done for the day, we could get down to birthday dinner and presents and birthday pie....

Friends came through and helped celebrate, in fact a whole county seemed to be around for Middlest's birthday!

My Beautiful Birthday Girl!

And Day 1 of The Fair was put to bed.

But, for those of you who don't get to go to The County Fair, just another taste of what you are missing.

Yes, that is a large, barefoot, smoking woman in a muu-muu, being led around by a monkey.

Ahh, The Fair!

Ai-ai-ai-ai (Bugs Bunny sound as shakes head)

Two weeks come and gone. I'm not sure one could pack more into two weeks.
We just, and I mean just (after I began the second sentence) got power back, after several days without. Huz had hooked the computer up to the borrowed generator giving me a chance to check my email and attempt an update.
Last night I hauled water from the rain barrel to the tub and heated up a pot of rainwater on the stove, and had a mini-bath- leaf bits and all. It still was pretty excellent. We also had a small rainshower earlier in the day and Eldest and I stood under the pour off of the horse trailer for showers. I was in particular need, as in moving horse equipment from truck to yard to tractor shed I got manure smeared. Lovely.
I was moving horse equipment in order to get the truck ready to go pick up hay- we are out, and the pastures are drought starved and useless. The truck was full of stuff because Middlest and I had just returned from 5 days at Pony Club- camping and she having twice daily instruction from Olympic Eventer Mimi Combs. This began in Dayton the day after moving out of The Fair. If you add this up, you can see the added indignity of finally being home, (sleep in my own bed! luxuriate in my bathtub! Brush my teeth with running water! Flush toilets!) and losing power in the wicked storm. A storm, which happened just prior to my preparations to take Huz' arm at the OSU Veterinary Resident Recognition Banquet. An annual event which usually requires clean hair and shaved legs.
So, with the advent of electricity- thank you oil lamp for lighting our family Quirkle tournament on the front patio last night- I will go finish my preparations for the banquet that was two nights ago.
And, get ready for photos! I will upload the 800 some photos onto the computer and start selecting the ones to share.

To tide you over, a handsome pirate lad in a red cape and underwear, riding his trusty farm bike.

And Middlest's triumphant Show Jumping Team at the Tri-State Region Pony Club Show Jumping Rally. (She is third from the left). Also, she would want me to point out that in the Dressage Rally - the following day- the Hunters Run Pony Club teams earned first and second place! But, I, having spent the day Horse Management Judging, was camera-less and did not capture that photo.

And, Eldest and Middlest at the start of The Fair, all smiles as they they team up for the Fun Contest! ( and, no, I don't think Eldest was drooling, but had recently finished bobbing for an apple)

The Fair! Clean pigs and our "zamb".

Tomorrow is the official start to the County Fair. 'Round these parts, and I am including my family in "these parts", The Fair is a week unlike any other. It is part Christmas, part final exams. It is the week that takes more effort to prepare for than any other week of the year. And, unlike Christmas, I am not the only one exerting great effort. This Fair week, my three children will be exhibiting 16 projects. That includes 8 livestock projects (and taking 12 animals), three cooking projects and...others (this is where I get a bit vague). My 4-H children (our club of 81 members) are taking somewhere in the nature of 165 projects to The Fair.
For two intensive days this week, Middlest, heading up the Fair Booth Committee- jointly with Emma J., worked hard with their crew of Club faithful to create a Fair Booth with the prescribed theme of "Sew it, Grow it, Show it". The committee chose to do a fairytale spin on this, and created a lovely booth, featuring a "4-H Fairytales book" full of posters showing what the kids learned in their miscellaneous projects.



Chairpersons



The Fairbooth Committee!

We have been deep in all Fair preparations, and somehow, felt it necessary to also sneak in a Pony Club Rating this morning, where Middlest and Patches were able to earn their D2 rating! The camper was also collected this morning, outfitted with the necessities (pretty sheets and flowers to counterbalance the "camperness" of the thing, and then moved to the fairgrounds. Huz was on this detail, enlisting the help of friend and truck owner, Paul to collect the living quarters for the next week. Huz also went on a Homer-style Odyssey to find a hose splitter- there are never enough hose outlets to hook up to water, and made a side trip to fill the fridge with artisan beer. Hmmm.
Back at Cowfeathers, the hens got bathed, the sheep got bathed, and February got "slick sheared"- this means right to the skin. The hogs got scrubbed, tack trunks were outfitted and loaded in the truck, posters were made for miscellaneous food science, veterinary and nutrition judgings, and the barn got a good cleaning courtesy of Nick- who is helping me out this summer.
Tomorrow is "move-in day" this means many, many trips to the fair grounds to deliver animals and equipment. Hogs go first in the early am. This, mainly because we don't have much hope of being able to manuever our big trailer in the crush that will be evening arrivals. The sheep are amenable, and can be walked from distance. The hens and the ducks can be carried. The dogs don't "move in", so stay here until they show, and for the first time in many years we are not taking a horse to the fair. This turns out to be a relief. The horse gets not a real break though, as the day after fair, she moves to Pony Club Camp, to be ridden three times a day. But that is a whole week away, plenty of time to plan....



Middlest putting her hand to shearing February.



Baby geese are the cutest!



Poppy, one of our eldest ladies, surveys the barnyard, and thinks of her evening constitutional to the garden and compost bins.



Youngest gives Wilbur's head a scrub.



Getting cleaner!



After shearing February with Middlest, Kendra show's Middlest how it's done. Making our wool sheep look like a market lamb! He has extraordinary zebra stripes. If a horse/zebra is a "zorse", then this is a "zamb".

SHAVING HOGS????

Well, perhaps I should've been more specific about the "I plan to be useful" statement. I didn't mean so soon.
We have been on a Ferris wheel that is being driven by a maniac carny, with a sadist's sense of time.
I worry that I might secretly be the carny. Which would mean the whole thing is masochistic...but I don't have the time to figure it out.
I spent three days last weekend (okay, just that statement gives you how our "time" is working) at Middlest's Pony Club Show Jumping and Dressage Rallies in northern Ohio. That is worth chapters of blogging, oodles of blogging , and many wonderful pictures...but the darn Ferris wheel won't stop and let me off, so we are onto Fair now. We are so onto Fair, that at this moment, Youngest, with the help of our Hog Experienced neighbor, is shaving his pigs.
(This is one of the moments when the Ferris wheel stops at the top and lets you swing back a forth a whole minute.)


SHAVING HOGS??????????????

Yep. I hadn't really thought of hogs as hairy. But, they have longish hair on their bodies, and for show you shave them down to about a 1/2 inch of hair. The "processor" likes to have some hair, because, it apparently allows them to get a better grip on the hide. And yes, Wilbur and Willis are going to the "processor". Bacon and Ribs. I'm not really vegetarian by choice, but in this instance....

Even their little piggy tails get shaved.

One of the things that I was curious about was; how does one get a hog to stand still and be shaved? The answer, apparently is; food.

And, one for the road- for soon, not only do the hogs hit the road, so does little February. Our first market lamb.

I plan to become Useful.

My recent mishap may lead some to believe I'm not in this for the long haul. That I am cavalier about my shin bone being connected to my knee bone. It is just not true. Anymore. There was certainly a time in my blush of youth when 30 was incomprehensible, and 1999 a pinprick in the distance, I suffered little from dalliance with self preservation. I lived mostly without fear, and my decisions were not always cantilevered into the wise section of the spectrum.
But I had a kind of epiphany here recently that had nothing to do with my concussion. I know this, because I had the epiphany pre-flight. I just forgot about it a while.
I recalled it in my "What should I think about tonight?" minutes after bed, but before slumber, when I have to plan, make, do something in my brain in order to have it shut down for the night. That led me to then wonder " Have I flirted with dead?" (Being dead, not "the" dead, cause that would be ick).  At first I could think of nothing I've done that was likely to end with my demise and a half-baked obituary full of typos in the country paper. Then, I thought of one thing. Jeez, what a maroon! Then, another, and another, and once the floodgates opened I stopped trying to think of them. They were all lined up right there, shaking their heads at me and saying "Lands end, Lady, your fleet of Guardian Angels got raggedy and went all Grizzly Adams around 1993. Since then, God's been working pretty hard all by himself. Good thing you opted for the marriage and children ladder." The astute might now be wondering how thoughts like this could lead to sleep.
It's that I made it to 30. 1999 came and went with only bilateral wisdom tooth abscesses that meant I had to celebrate the turn of the millennium through a straw. I had three children who amaze me, and married a man I am fascinated by. I not only wanted to make it to 40, 50, 60... I expected to make it to 80, 90, 100. Which wasn't the epiphany.
 It is Usefulness. That is what I think is the secret to longevity. The productive sort of longevity. I think when folks stop feeling useful, their bodies and minds start becoming useless. So, I started my useful plan. No, I've no idea what use I'll be when I hit 85. Yet. But, now I can plan for it.  Observe the useful elderly. There is working usefulness- like Gram still being expected to make cookies and pack lunches for Aunt Sib's landscaping crews. There is personal goal usefulness- like doing the Over 80 category in the mud run. And there is the care usefulness I see in my older clients who are, unquestioningly, needed by their tooth-challenged Chihuahuas. Who else would tolerate Paco? So they must live on!
Now, I don't want to live over-cautiously, so I hope God not only keeps up the good work, but maybe some of my Guardian Angels are ready to lace up again. In the meantime, with their help, I have about 30 years to figure out how to become Useful.

A Bad Patience

I'm here to tell you, lightning can strike twice.
But, I will not really explain that, just to say that 3 1/2 weeks after my flight from Oslo ended with a wall, I thought maybe it was time to blog about it. But I am uncomfortable doing so, and I wondered why? So, upon thinking hard thoughts, like Pooh Bear, tapping my head, and concentrating very hard, I realized; because it feels like it is not my story to tell. That confused me too, because then, who's story is it? It doesn't feel like mine, because I don't remember it, atall, atall. So, I can only relate what I've heard. That's gossiping about myself. And Oslo isn't talking. So, I must leave it to the ladies who helped me that evening, and my Huz who was an excellent nurse, and my children who looked doubtfully my way and still have to help me with my bra in the mornings. But, no longer my hair, because I have figured out how to braid it and put it up by myself.
What I can talk about it that simply put: I am a Bad Patience. This means I'm a good patient, I smile, complain very little, try pretty hard, mostly do what I'm told. But I've no patience for it. The first week was easier because all of it was terribly fuzzy. I did amuse myself by reading a book of which I've no idea what I read. If I stopped and put it down to do something else ( such as roll on my side which was precarious because on my left side, if I canted forward the shoulder rolls open and hurts and lying on my right side means lying on a broken scapula and a separated shoulder. Also unpleasant...) I would completely forget not only where I was in the story, but what the story was about and the characters. At first, I just started the book over again, but soon realized that was fruitless. So, I could apologize to the author of the book for thinking it made no sense whatsoever, but I can't recall the name of the book or the author, so I guess it's equally moot. I spoke with folks that week, and don't remember a moment of it, so if we chatted and I made no sense...well, now you know I made no sense because if I stopped to take a breath I couldn't remember what we were speaking of, or to whom I was speaking. Okay, by me because once I hung up the phone, I didn't remember I was on it in the first place. I went back to the orthopedist last week, and he greeted me like we'd seen each other two weeks ago. Crazy guy. He also showed me my films (x-rays) 2 weeks post flight. I wish I hadn't seen them. This is because now that I know what it looks like, I wonder how it ever worked anyway.



This is my excellent rendering of a normal shoulder and my shoulder. I have to point out that the collarbone is a wreck, but it isn't all from this one incident. The collarbone has been to the rodeo before (several times).

I have been cleared to drive, and work, and have been doing so, mostly left handed, but I am putting my right arm into motion more everyday. Sometimes too much, and have to silently lament my enthusiasm. At work, I have found that abdominal palpation on small dogs and cats is mostly doable, but big dogs? Not happening. I'm still good at talking (no surprise, eh?) but anal glands...well, decent at emptying the left, hopeless at doing the right. Which makes me useless for that particular glamorous pursuit. I'm competent at vaccinating, but not so at phlebotomy (the gathering of the blood). I can't open "childsafe" caps worth a darn, but I'm back to being able to type (exhibit "A" at present).
 Today I drove the truck and trailer to the Pony Club lesson for Middlest, about 1.5 hrs each way, and that went fairly well, except for backing the rig into a space, which required me to move my right arm behind the passenger seat and turn to the right to back. Believe me, I tried it five times without doing so, but gave up and went with the routine way. It made my teeth chatter and I felt like I was going to throw up, but I backed that sucker into the sweet spot.
  Okay, as for the lightning, this time is struck my friend. And, that somehow is much, much worse.  Get well, Christie. Soon. And, don't be a Bad Patience.