Contentment? II
This morning finds me working to encapsulate the yaddahs of the blahs concerning my son's in-laws and their legal manueverings. I find them fitting quite neatly with the cast of the Welfare Puppet Show, all the way to the morbid obesity of entitlement greed. Their theme song is a Pink Floyd classic, "Money." Like the waddling welfare puppets of my own birth family tree, they would have no problems I.F. they had everybody else's money. Is it possible for you to invest any more in your gifted waistline, my Fat Cats? Never mind. . . The sky is the limit on waistline investments.
Healing hopes for all. No exceptions.
The Welfare Puppet Show in my head is quite noisy this morning, but. . . QUIET ON THE SET! ! ! All of you, both individually and together. Good thing the stage set is only imaginary. That would be ALLOT of literal weight to brace for. There isnae a single skinny minnie in the cast. Has there been any real world research on the link between welfare entitlement and morbid obesity? Do I care?
Shifting my focus to the problems my birth family, my son's in-laws and a host of other cast members of The Welfare Puppet Show believe I was able to buy my way out of. . .
I am quite pleased with how well the Chick Room cleaned up. Last night The Chick Room became The Lego Room when I dumped a recycled gift from one of Hubby's co-workers onto the clean, empty floor. The two tubs of legos filled most of the floor by the time they were spread far enough that we could see what all was in the tubs. Wow! ! ! Are we surprised this lady's son grew up to be an engineer?
I am equally pleased with how well the chicks/pullets have taken to having their brood cage tucked under the porch. A few of the chicks looked for their window access to the chick room, but only one of them needed to be wrangled into the new location. I believe she would have found her way on her own, but I does enjoy wrangling my feather babies. Girl howdy, they are pretty ladies. Foggy the rooster agrees, but, if I am translating our conversation on the porch step correctly, he is a bit overwhelmed at the thought of taking on 19 new women at once. "The Taj Mahal is beautiful, too, but it don't fit in my roost. Hey, did you notice the water in the coop needs changing?"
I amnae certain what breed Foghorn is, but he is a big, beautiful and gentle young rooster. I believe he will be a year old this coming spring. He doesnae look too much like the cartoon rooster I named him for but he carries a similar bluster that makes up for the physical diffs. He is quite right that the 19 pullets will crowd the roost a bit over capacity. That roost is now a substantial hike away from our living quarters and, if I am translating correctly, the flock is complaining about the long commute to work in the morning. It is their sworn duty to keep our porch bug-free and poopy, wheresoever we place our porch.
Is my schedule and brain space freeing up enough to order a new coop for the new yard? We see. . . If those ifs fall into alignment, I will start by prepping the pad. Methinks I see a candidate spot over there by the gate to the Tinker's Den.
This morning's peace still feels too good to be true, but. . . Small steps, big faith and lots of prayer.
Replies
Having just shed 111lbs of morbid obesity of my own this year, arfie, I do wonder what it's linked to. In my case its onset came with a 2010 collapse from chronic kidney disease but fighting it in the years following did get wrapped up with my PTSD for sure, my psychiatrist confirmed that in our Tuesday appointment. The mind/body connection is real. Now to keep it off. Being regular sized again is "too good to be true" for me like you say this morning's peace is too good to be true for you. But small steps for us both and we can have some peace and wellness just for today, right?
Congratulations on your weight loss, Muji. May it grow from too good to be true to simply true.
My own weight problem is a problem I would dearly love to give the folks who envy me for ^it^. Careful what you wish for, my friends. Being fashionably thin doesnae solve many more problems than money and carries extra problems the image peddlers willnae ever own up to. No pain no gain? When my involuntary weight loss symptoms begin their agitations, I often feel like the Wicked Witch of The West in her dramatic closing scene in the Wizard of Oz.
"I'm melting! ! ! Argh-h-h-h. . ."
As surely as my weight problem is bigger than a neurotic drive to be fashionable, I havenae a doubt the problems of morbid obesity are bigger than the Welfare Entitlement which plagues my strictly personal family tree.
So glad to read of a contentment in mind and ? around you....may the "it's of life" be gentle so the gift of contentment continue!! I'm not sure about the weight stuff. I do know what my therapist said in reference to John and his lack of personal hygiene/weight...she thinks the two are connected to the molestation at 10. She also thinks that the weight is a 'protective' barrier to ward off 'attraction' from others...stigma of being over weight, in my own head is the same as the stigma of mental illness. As far as the inlaw's go, no idea, from the perspective of some, due to the diet of mostly carbs and unhealthy eating in general puts on the weight, just throw in emotional eating (that's me) and well the pounds do add on being a couch potato.
Muji, I think you wrote that you were in stage 3 ckd...not a bad place if ya stick to a kidney diet....I've been as low as 17% and fluctuate between 25-31 gfr with one kidney...if you've stayed at ckd 3 for ten years you are doing Great!! I lost about 20lbs, down to 112, along with the weight went alot of muscle too....I'm hoping to work on getting some of that back again, can't even get up from floor with bent knees..gett'n ole aint for sissies!!
Warning - rambling musings. Here in the land of Oz obesity, poverty and drug abuse have all been linked to a rural lifestyle in some recent studies, though I see it just as bad in some outer suburbs. Maybe lack of opportunities. IDK.
Your outlaw rellies sound like my sisters. Maybe we could matchmake a few of them? Entitlement to other people’s money and jealousy of anything anyone else’s hard work got them is a family trait. Compassion and decency is in short supply. I try to feel compassion for what made them that way while trying to protect myself at the same time. Work in progress. There seem to be two main causes in my mind for obesity-sweeties who use food to soothe and cope and on the other hand-self indulgent arseholes. Same with drinkers, smokers etc. I’m sure there’s a grey area in between.
Amazing how accepting chooks are isn’t it? I had to keep a couple in a laundry trough once during a cyclone and subsequent flooding but they didn’t give a crap. Hmm actually lots of crap but little concern. After all the drama was over they kept trying to run back inside every time the door was opened so maybe they enjoyed it?
I hope your lovelies (kiddos) enjoy the LEGO and clean room.
I had to look up, "Chooks." Leave it to the Aussies. . . I can hardly wait to see how the local 4 wheel cowpokes react to talking about my chook flocks. Yes, it is truly amazing how adaptable they are. Territorial, too. The cowpoke who rents our pastures for his breeding operations is quite amused by the interactions between his cattle and my chooks. Funner than watching the Republicans and the Democrats during the campaign months. Maybe even funner than watching the fatties interact with the skinnies. . . Maybe. . . I still cry in that show.
I still donae care enough to do the research, but the rural connection to morbid obesity in my wanders through North America seems to be cheaper rent. Welfare nulls are on a fixed income with no need to keep a working schedule and nearly all the rural areas have housing projects with MUCH shorter waiting lists. Am I imagining that the vast majority of contemporary housing project residents of all ages are morbidly obese? Dunno. . . For sure, it isnae mine to sort and I have more productive uses for my imagination.
Healing hopes for all. No exceptions.
I absolutely do believe that obesity and welfare go hand and hand. Could be the fear of never having enough food, or filling emotional holes.....or as my empathless grandmother said...just plain laziness.
My mother was a RN, but she hated being on her feet all night. Instead of trying to get her schedule changed, she pushed for disability and got partial and blew up to over 300lbs.
I rememeber being so angry at her. My father was truly disabled but he let that define him and was afraid our current president would take his disability check away. Ive seen injured vets try harder and I was angry at him too.
As you say birth family issues....
I love reading your post and always try and visualize the house and chicken coop. I miss living in the country and always wanted chickens and goats. This is why I love going to the treehouse and watching those chickens roam free...each with their own personality. Im glad your getting a chance to focus on everyday things, i believe the storm is over and the sun is shining for you again. Continued prayers Arfie;)
Most of my child sex trafficking trauma happened in rural environments. I believe that is still the case. It takes a considerable distance and/or sound proofing to mute the screams of the biz. They are disturbing enough to rattle the most callous of nerves. When I was old enough to run away to the city, the urban throw-away kid camps felt far safer than Farmer John's old hay barn. To this day, I buy my wilderness provisions in the city and keep my doors and windows locked when driving through small towns on my way to my wilderness retreats.
My current perch on the parched Southern Plains feels like a cosmic joke. Just making the best of a bad situation. . . Not to worry. The urban sprawl of the nearby metroplex is almost here. This ain't no small town. It's future city. The five acre country commuters are already zooming the country roads. Progress has arrived. Zoom zoom. . .
Arfie,
I miss the country but unless i meet a cowboy im stuck in the city for now. Theres nothing peaceful about it:(