They’ve left me home alone with two dogs, three cats, fifty –nine, two week old chicks, and sixteen laying hens. The dogs and cats are easy, but the fifty-nine chicks require constant watching. They are insatiably hungry and thirsty, and I have to be vigilant about the two heat lamps hanging from the ceiling lest the chicks become over-heated, or too cold. Little do they know that in approximately six weeks, they will be resting comfortably in my daughter’s downstairs freezer. The thought of it makes me re-consider my position on vegetarianism. Each time I check on them, I am forced to harden my heart like pharaoh.

The hens follow me around like dogs, whom I refer to as “the girls”. They allow me to pluck their eggs from the straw-lined nest boxes, some of them still warm. I shoo the girls away whenever they follow me to the ramp leading up to where the chicks are housed, and some of them peck at my shoes, confusing them for food.

The cats are as easy as the dogs. Jimmy spends most of the day lying curled on my daughter’s unmade bed, and Michael lurks around the trailer, keeping a close watch out for Diesel, our neighbor’s evil tom-cat. Diesel routinely slinks onto the property for the express purpose of causing trouble. I break up the cat fights with water, tossing it onto the cat in closest proximity to me.

From my trailer window I can see the empty house, a forlorn rug hanging limply over the deck railing. Despite thinking how wonderful eight days alone was going to be; eight days without the sounds of grand-children scrapping, I’m surprised to discover how much I miss them all. I distract myself by reading, and doing yard-work.

I’ve recently discovered what appears to be a bunion on m the side of my left foot. A small knuckle that serves no purpose whatsoever other than to signal the fact that time is no longer my friend, and in fact is doing its level best to spring unhappy surprises on me on a fairly regular basis. I still haven’t grown wholly accustomed to the softening of my upper arms which my grand-daughter enjoys patting and referring to as “peachy”.

Bunions make me think of Paul Bunyan, and then Babe, which makes me think of Babe Ruth, and then of course the game of baseball, and how little I understood it when I was a kid and forced to participate during Phys. Ed. Then I think of the chocolate bar, and how ridiculous, the English language.

I’ve had free floating anxiety since my family left on their eight day holiday. I think it may be related to a recent car accident we were involved in, whereby a drunken woman drove into the back of us, doing at least 50 kms p.h. The grand-kids were at first stunned, and then scared out of their wits, but were mercifully unhurt. I could tell I had a mild whip-lash having been in three previous accidents, and my daughter had a more serious one, due to her head being turned to the right at the time of the impact. We have both since recovered, but there is that lingering sense of dread at how randomly shit occurs, presenting itself out of seeming nowhere.

The air is clogged with smoke from a nearby forest fire, which has forced me to remain inside due to allergies, hence the writing of this blog, due partially to boredom and a need to break from the novel I am currently ploughing through.

I might also mention that I recently joined a social networking site that most people attempt to use as dating site. I am fascinated by the flotsam and jetsam that troll this site, and it is this morbid fascination that prevents me from deleting it and running for cover. It’s like a bad accident that I can’t look away from.

Most of the people that send friend requests are either in their twenties, or octogenarians. The latter are sad souls, probably widowed and desperate, and the former, people who can’t get dates within their age group due to being socially inept, or budding serial killers looking for an easy target. Most of the requests originate from places like Tunisia, Egypt, and Morocco. Other requests come from Israel and Palestine, yet no one seems to want to discuss their position on the Gaza strip. Sad really when you think about it.

More on this later…..