An (almost) great weekend

The poultry show at Paso Robles was this past weekend. Paso is about 275 miles from where I live. With the drought, it passes through some of the nastiest-looking areas of California. But my Hawaiian music and just being in the car going somewhere made the trip fast and easy.

There were a lot of plans to make before I left, and I always have to take Wesley into consideration. I set cages up in the den so I could put birds there to dry as I washed them for the show. I left the barriers up that I installed to keep Wes away from the chicks that occupied that room earlier, and that was a good move. It's so hard to stay ahead of that cat.

I've learned not to leave eggs on the counter for even a moment. They roll, you see, and Wes knows that. But sometimes I outsmart myself. I set the eggs on a towel last week while I went to find some empty cartons for them. I covered them with a corner of the towel and secured it with my coffee cup.

Then I got sidetracked and forgot about the eggs. I remembered them instantly when I set something on top of the towel and the eggs cracked. Dang!

Whenever we think we've got Wesley figured out, he comes up with a new trick. Bob stayed over a week or so ago. He slept on the living room couch and went to bed listening to his music with his headphones on. Wesley "fixed" them for him during the night.

Anyway, Bob and Anna and - as it turns out - a bunch of their friends stayed at the house while I was gone for the weekend. They kept an eye on everything and the only casualty was poor Jonathan, Wesley evidently bit his nose sometime during the night. Sigh.

I had a great time at the show, though.

There were a lot of Dominique bantams there. Most were mine (I took 11) but there were also other exhibitors.

One of my pullets was on Champion Row and ended up as Reserve of the RCCL Class. The best part was the judge told me later how much he really liked her.

This was the awards table at the show. My pullet won one of the small boxes.

She can use it for her traveling clothes, or to store her personal belongings. She will be going to more shows.

I also took 7 of my white Old English Game Bantams to sell. Toward the end of the day I still had 3 cockerels left and thought I'd probably have to take them home.

But then a charming young man, about 8 years old, came along with his dad. He wanted the cockerels, he said. His dad and I asked, "Which ONE do you want?" He said, "I want them ALL. One for me and two for my brothers." The dad agreed, and away they went. These cute little birds are great with little kids.

In addition to selling some birds and winning a good prize, I made some new friends. This is Debbie. She is a new Dominique bantam exhibitor. I had a great time visiting with her. She drove up to the show from Southern California.

And these are old and new friends.

The fellow in the white cowboy hat is a good guy, of course. He's Donald. The lady who is waving is Susan. She was pushing a stroller with 3 tiny pet birds on top of it. Those birds sat there peacefully all day long. The fellow with the little boy is Toby from Australia, his wife is wearing a hat in the background. I've known Donald for years, but the others are people I've met through a Facebook poultry fanciers page.

I made the trip to this show with my friend Carlotta the past two years. This year she's working in Tucson and couldn't join me. It's more fun with a friend in the car to chat with, but overall it was a good trip. I'm looking forward to the rest of the show season.

The Next Generation

There are 3 young 'uns on the Blawat side of the family. I think they're all keepers.

This is the eldest, Tessa. She's really into chickens.

This is Charlie, he's in the middle. He's learning to ride a pony.

This is the baby, Tommy. He's learning public speaking skills from his grandma Nancy.

Anything he doesn't learn from her, he can pick up from his rabble-rousing mama Jen.

I love this family. Chickens, horses, rabble rousing. All things that are dear to my heart.

Life After 60 (or so)

This morning I have a very long article from The Atlantic for you to read, if you're so inclined. Maybe read what I've written below the link (so you know why I've sent you to it), then go get a big cup of coffee and come back to read the article.

ARTICLE

I hadn't been thinking much about life or death recently. I did that 8 years ago, when death seemed to be a possibility. Then I just decided to get healthy and get on with it. As this author says, "Aware of our diminishing capacities, we choose ever more restricted activities and projects, to ensure we can fulfill them." Since retirement, I have cultivated avocational interests. In my case, working in the flower garden and showing chickens. Having already encountered what it's like to lose mobility (and then partially regain it) I'm working at getting the most I can from whatever years I have before "life comes to center around sitting in the den reading or listening to books on tape and doing crossword puzzles."

The topic of the link this morning has more recently become relevant, not because of what's happening in my own life, but because of friends and relatives who are going through periods of transformation and are contemplating what happens next.

I have cousins who have just dealt with losing parents, or who may be facing that soon. For them, I offer this quotation from the article:

"...no child wants his or her parents to die. It is a huge loss at any age. It creates a tremendous, unfillable hole. But parents also cast a big shadow for most children. Whether estranged, disengaged, or deeply loving, they set expectations, render judgments, impose their opinions, interfere, and are generally a looming presence for even adult children. This can be wonderful. It can be annoying. It can be destructive. But it is inescapable as long as the parent is alive."

I offer this not only as something to think about when we lose our own parents, but also as something to think about in our relationships with our own adult children.

I enjoyed this article. I think it pretty summarizes the thoughts a person goes through after 60. Maybe it will condense the time spent thinking about those things, and help others get swiftly on the way to enjoying their retirement years.

My recommendations from personal experience:

1. Forget about your previous capabilities, either physically or mentally. Pat yourself on the back for everything you accomplished, then set new goals that are realistic for your life NOW. You have no time for regret.
2. Do as many fun things as you can while you're young. Sometimes it's harder because you don't have the time or the resources, but if there's something you want to accomplish, just DO IT NOW. 
3. Retire as early as you can. If you haven't yet experienced physical or mental limitations, you have no idea how quickly that can happen. Don't wait until you retire at 65 and think you'll have the time. Several of my aunts and uncles were able to retire at 55. Those extra 10 years were glorious fun for them. 

There are lots of ways to continue fun times when you're older. Personally, I love to hear the younger generation talk about things they're doing. Bob and Anna went exploring in the lava caves up by Mt. Lassen this weekend. They spent some time telling me all about it. I love to listen to young parents talk about their kids, and things they're doing. I can absorb some of their excitement, with no personal responsibility involved. I also love to read everyone's blogs. What a great way to go traipsing through the woods in England, or catching a glimpse of life in other places!

Now, go read the article when you have some unhurried time. 

Chicken Wrangler

This week it was quite a treat to have someone come and help me evaluate my white Old English Game Bantams. This is Cali Miller, a former 4-H showman. She's a few years younger than Bob, so they never competed.

She has a good eye and helped me immensely as we caught all 30 of the young birds and decided which to keep and which to cull. As an added bonus (to me) Cali took some home with her.

There are two other reasons why I'm posting this picture. I also have a cousin named Callie Miller. Both ladies have Facebook accounts and I have to pay attention or I'll get them mixed up. So, cousin, here's the other Cali.

The second reason is I can't believe I didn't see that stupid mannequin head in the background when I took the picture. It usually lives in the crotch of the big Zelkova tree that shades the yard. At one time there must have been 4 or 5 of those dumb things decorating the back yard, tucked into places where they'd scare a person who discovered them. They were even worse than the fake rats I used to hide to terrorize my older stepbrother.

Just a note: the head does not deter hawks from trying to get at birds in the cages on the table. It doesn't work like a scarecrow. I can't leave the birds unattended.

Greasy Coffee

It's amazing how eating habits have changed over the years. I think I've finally found what works for me, and it involves starting the morning with a cup of greasy coffee.

I've been eating low carb for 8 years, since being diagnosed with T2 diabetes. It's quite easy to keep your blood sugar in control when you're not fueling it with the thing that made it go crazy in the first place...carbs. I'm not just talking about nasty carbs found in muffins, cake, pie, cookies and other stuff we all know is bad for us. I'm talking about the supposed "well balanced diet" carbs that people eat in pasta, rice, and fruit, for example, thinking that's healthful. For a lot of us, a number growing every day, it's NOT healthful. If you monitor your blood sugar, you already know what I mean.

Don't take my word for it. Read Primal Body, Primal Mind by Nora Gedgaudas for a scientific analysis of why this is so.

Anyway, I've had good success with my blood sugar for years (most recent A1C 4.8), but had trouble keeping the weight off on a primal diet. My primal friends kept saying, "you need to eat more fat." Well, okay, but that totally goes against what I have heard for years, and, frankly, fat is ooky. Also, if you can't put it on carbs, how do you eat it?

A couple of months ago I read about Bulletproof Coffee. It involves putting some MCT oil (medium chain triglyceride) along with coffee in a blender. Start the morning with this, and your body immediately goes into fat burning mode and you won't need breakfast until almost lunch time. Sounded weird. But I finally tried it.

You know what? It works. I've managed to lose almost 45 pounds. I do have to watch the calories. Athletes on a primal diet can eat lots of nuts, avocadoes, and other high fat things. I have to keep the servings small. But even at 1000 calories a day and low carb, I had gained weight in the past couple of years. If I'd been trapped with the Donner Party, I'm sure people would have pointed their fingers at me and whispered behind my back about who they suspected was eating the dead.

MCT oil, or even straight coconut oil, is fairly tasteless. With coffee in a blender it makes a foamy drink that's easy to consume, you don't have to gag it down. The fellow who "invented" Bulletproof Coffee has an elaborate recipe for it that involves special coffee and a lot of equipment.

Sorry, but I'm not going to make a big mess in the kitchen every morning just to get a cup of coffee. I'll bet his wife cleans up after him. And so far my plain coffee and plain MCT oil are working just fine.

If you're addicted to carbs (and if you're still eating a lot of them, you ARE addicted), don't drink greasy coffee, it won't do you any good. But if you're trying to go low carb and are having problems with it, I'd recommend this.

Poor Wesley

I was away from home for a day and a half during the Heirloom Show, but that was too much for poor Wesley. When I came home and found 4 days worth of cat food totally gone, everything on the kitchen counter (except the blender) and everything I'd left on the dining room table knocked onto the floor, and a cat with a panicked expression on his little face, I realized he'd never really been left that long by himself.

Last year Bob was here. Also Velcro was here.

This year, when I'm gone, Wesley is in charge (because Gollum takes no responsibility for anything).

All of last week, the poor baby was at my heels constantly. And sometimes under them, he has a hard time remembering to keep his long, long tail out of the way. When I sat at the computer, he slept as close to it as he could, keeping his eye on me.

"I'll just be right here, don't go anywhere."

When I tried to put the luggage away, he was on top of it.

"I'm ready to go. Don't leave without me!"

So, for the rest of the show season, or at least until the cat becomes accustomed to being in charge, I need to procure a cat sitter. The 200 chickens are fine by themselves for a week at a time. The horses are fine, even the feral cats can go for several days on what I leave them.

But poor baby Wes can't live for a couple of days without having someone to bite and scratch. He evidently cannot survive without a daily taste of human blood.

Want to cat sit, anyone?

One more....

then onto the next show, Paso Robles.

This was the official Heirloom Expo photo.