Insomnia
On the Arf Scale, it is still too early to call this restless night, "Insomnia." 'Tis possible that the beer I just opened will knock some sleep into me. My stomach has protested the first few sips enough that it feels unlikely that I will be able to finish it, but a benefit of drinking alcohol as seldom as I do is that a few sips can provide quite allot of soporific benefit. The dark of the moon outside makes for plenty of eye candy overhead as I float around the farm compound to burn the extra energy churned up by intrusive thoughts from the broken pieces of my life. Hubs left this morning for the Urban Homestead to take care of bee biz. He expects to be back tomorrow to meet with a contractor about putting in a bid for myriad of details for the housing upgrade site. Caliche pad. Septic tank. Electrical. Water. Etc., etc. We decided to go with manufactured housing for the upgrade. Life willing, the site preparation will be the worst of that project. For tonight, I am grateful for the peace of solitude.
With all the projects and family drama on the stove, the intrusive thoughts are popping out of more pots than I can track. The GKs are the most active pot on the intrusive thought stove. When hot spits splatter from the other pots, the dominant theme is grappling for ways to get those pots to keep their spit off my grandkids. Mind your manners, fuck head. Hm-m-m-m. . . Do I need to hire a guard to wash Gammy's mouth out with soap, as needed? "Fuck" sure as shit don't mean what it did when my sandbox mates were getting their mouths washed out for quoting me, but balance in all things. Regretably, I donae require use of taboo words to get down low. I can call a cunt a cunt without using the Bad Word. My talent for that likely belongs on the list of reasons my GKs are in protective custody. Prayers in progress that I can balance foster care better than I did for my own sons. Well? ? ? The foster care certification is still in pending. Prayers in progress that the healing mysteries guide my GKs to the safest possible place for them. Healing hopes for all. No exceptions.
There are less than two weeks before local schools start the Fall semester. The home interview for the foster care certification doesnae happen until 3 days before school starts. If the move is to happen, it doesnae seem likely all the pieces will fall together fast enough to allow GS to start with the rest of his first grade classmates. The housing upgrade is even less likely to be finished before the start of school, so we will have the chaos of moving during the weeks he is trying to adjust to his new routine. Flashback city to the instability of my own primary and secondary education abound. Round and round and round spin the questions, thoughts and doubts.
For now, the beer bottle is almost half empty. Let's see if the sedative did the trick.
Replies
Sleep tight alfie
Sweet Dreams and solutions to quiet your mind....
Like you've often wrote to me when my own mind is going 500 miles per hour.
baby steps,
A childhood friend said "get a block of cheese and turn it into Swiss Cheese...little bites, one at a time...I was trying to write a term paper for college.
My own sleep is trying to find it's way to me as well... 1:30am..going to try reading again in my book and hope we will both soon be in la la land!
That baby step worked. The sleep was restless and filled with chaotic dreams I believe were "working dreams" where my brain was working overtime to process all the loose ends in this grand parade of dreams and delusions. My physical energies are still running high, but my thought energies are ? ? ? manageable? Prayers in progress. . . The biggest problem I find with thought energy is that those electro-chemical processes have far fewer physical components to slow them down. They can start, stop and/or change lanes quicker than I can say, "Get help," much less accomplish the task of actually *getting help,* even with a fully engaged and indoctrinated support network on call.
I started building a Witch Wood Clubhouse for the flock yesterday. It received a nearly immediate full flock salute. What I am calling, "Witch Wood" are the pruned limbs of hackberry trees. I call it, "Witch Wood" because it flames easily. Broken down, I use it for kindling to start fires. Left intact, birds and small animals love to hang out in the shady, protected nooks and crannies beneath the branches until the nooks and crannies disappear as the smaller branches biodegrade into compressed piles. I have extended the life span of those nooks and crannies into an avian "Clubhouse" by adding a few cinder blocks and boards beneath the thicker branches. The hens love it. Was the little brown bantam egg I found in one of the nesting box a token of appreciation for the landscape upgrade? Dunno, but I think I will receive it as such. The egg looks too small to make a full Irish burrito (egg sandwich), but my tummy is fussy enough that I cannae eat much, anyway. I believe it has been around 3 years since I have cracked a butt fresh, never been packaged, refrigerated or shipped egg. The egg calls me from its throne of honor on the kitchen counter.
Nummy, nummy, nummy, you need fuel in your tummy
Come and crack my shell
Design improvements for the Witch Wood Clubhouse have occurred to me since I abandoned the task to let the still new and nervous hens add their consumer reviews to the project. Even the four pullets who have known the coop for their entire, albeit short times on the human measure are nervous about the invasion of the 12 older hens. Maybe they will reward the design improvements with another egg or 16. So or no, design improvements for a Witch Wood Clubhouse feel like a healthier focus than chasing dysfunctional family cycles, bureaucrats and contractors through the puppet stage sets in my head.
Think I'll wear my rose rosary today. I believe I am holding steady through the storm, but prayers needed. Itsy bitsy baby steps.
Arfie...Im so sorry for the insomnia and all the things upsetting you. You have so many things going on. Sending peaceful sleep and peace of mind your way.
Arfie, waiting for answers is always a challenge. Three days would be enough to get them enrolled if that is the direction the powers that be take. Focusing on the Witch Wood Clubhouse sounds like a great plan. Just you and the hens. Prayers for you and yours as these situations resolve. Comforting hugs.