My Brain Injury - Happy 5th Anniversary

Wow, FIVE years since I did a head plant into the long grass of the paddock with the assistance of my Piece of Poop. I only realised it half way through the morning and then it made me smile. I told my friends when I realised what day it was and that it had been an exercise in attention seeking and an inexplicable need to have six months off work. They totally agreed.

I remember the first six months after the injury I found each monthly anniversary upsetting. I was not accepting my limitations very well. When I was able to begin work, be it in very small increments, I found my lack of amazing progress upsetting.

My first year anniversary since the accident was a shock. How can this injury still be affecting me? My second anniversary was, for some reason, more upsetting. Perhaps it seemed so much more permanent. I knew it was imminent so I arranged for a big family and friend BBQ and tennis day in the country to coincide with the fateful day. We had the best fun and the most laughs and one of my friends even bought out a 'Brain Cake' with two candles alight. It had lots of apricot halves, cut side down, on top to represent brains. My day passed with lots of happiness instead of tears. From then on it became easier.

There was some things I learnt on that second anniversary.

* Yes I have a mild disability but I am not disabled, I am not dead and I sure as hell will not let the brain injury stop me from living my life.

* Surrounding yourself with people who have a positive impact on your life is a smart move. I am not alone. I have friends and family that are important to me and I to them.

* Self pity is unhelpful, unproductive and a waste of time.

* Look ahead, not behind and if you do look behind learn from it and grow.

* Deep and meaningful lists must come to an end. I am all out!

That day was significant also because it was the first time the Young Negotiator had thrown a teenage hissy-fit. It was mild and short lived but his anger was passionate. His father snapped back at him and it was over. The Young Negotiator did not speak to us for the 15 minutes it took to get to town but by then it was forgotten and everyone happy. I remember I was shocked and then secretly impressed and had a secret smile when I thought about it. He has had a couple of very mild teenage outbursts, at the most three, and they hardly make the Richter scale. I have joked with him about it and he takes it very well. I know, we are lucky.

But I digress. This post is all about me, me, me. I had morning tea with my ex-brain injury counsellor today. It was lovely and my inspiration for this post. We still keep in contact and I always come away from our meetings feeling good about myself. Thank you to all my friends and family who make me feel good. You are a treasure. (Not to be buried, ha ha).

The Beautiful Transylvanian Naked Neck

Are these the faces that only a mother could love? This is our Naked Neck hen Steve and one of our two roosters, Frank. I want to get some more of these real chickens but the breeder has had an unsuccessful season.

Diana and Mrs Johnson

These are our two new Minorcas. We were given them by some people we did a favour for. The couple live in town, next to the Old Cheeses (my parents), and have a couple of Minorcas but were having difficulty with a carpet snake threatening their beloved birds. They initially asked us if we would adopt their girls and I was happy to. The Nice Neighbour brought out his girls one day, "Diana" and "Mrs Johnson". They were large, plump birds with beautiful feathering. They came in a carry cage worthy of the most pedigree of animals. I had their 'room' ready and he gently introduced them to their new home. He was clearly unhappy about the situation but was doing what he considered the right thing for the birds. These girls had their own feed and treats and were obviously much loved pets.

The Nice Neighbours lasted three days and then rang me. Could they have Diana and Mrs Johnson back? They had ordered a snake-proof chicken coop and were waiting for it to be delivered. Of course it was not a problem to keep the girls until the Nice Neighbours were set up and so began the education of these suburban chickens.

Mrs Johnson pecked her reflection in the stainless steel bin in her 'room' and gave it the Minorca death stare for the first day. They seemed happy enough for five days when I eventually introduced them to the rest of the flock. They were like royalty and stood a head above the simple country birds. But now their education took a steep turn. They were on layer pellets now which they had refused to this point. They were allowed free range but did not set foot outside for another five days. The Nice Neighbours visited them and hand fed their girls their favourite food.

By the time they were due to go home they were thinner and not nearly as well feathered as they had been when they arrived. They had experienced the advances of those brutish roosters; those dreadful, flavourless layer pellets and not a lettuce head in sight. They had settled in very well and were free ranging as much as the local yocals but I think they and their four new companions in town are much more comfortable in their snake-proof chook house.

Bird Eating Villain

This is the carpet snake that ate Peanut, my cockatiel. It must live in one of our roof spaces and patrol the area for rats, unsuspecting birds and frogs etc. We don't mind having the carpet snakes around because of their liking for rats and mice. We used to have a larger one that kept all our buildings vermin free. I am sure it took the occasional egg but we thought it a fair trade. We would see it occasionally or the skin it shed every year. Eventually it became so large that it ate our bantam rooster we had at the time (see post about Ken the Rooster).

Wonky Egg No 4

I should do a blog dedicated to the strange eggs we have here. These creations keep dropping out of some strange chook's bum.

The Funky Chickens

Our chooks dance to their own beat, their own groove and even a bit of headbanging for good measure.
They are the FUNKY CHICKENS!

Wonky Egg No 3

This egg is yet another fine example of the quality produce we have here. It had no shell, it was just the membrane that held it together. Again with the "umbilical cord" you will notice. We must have one wonky bummed chook.

We are taking delivery of six new young chooks today. We have some old girls that need culling. They are old and a little wear worn and must go to the great chook pen in the sky.

The new hens are black. They are New Hampshire x Australorp. Our older birds are red, Lohmans. When we buy new layers we try to get a different colour so we know which birds are younger. I read once where chickens are racist. If you have all red birds and you introduce a couple of white ones they will be picked on, they look different. We always try to have a selection of colours and so I am not sure about this fact. We have red, white, mottled and red/white. There are the ones that are lower in the pecking order of course but I am not sure it is related to colour. When the black ones come we will be truly multiracial in our chook pens. What a lovely thought.

The Embarrassing Beanie

To continue my theme of the winter wardrobe and my incredible sense of style this is what we in our family call the embarrassing beanie. I bought it in the Blue Mountains outside Sydney many years ago. It was made in Nepal and is pure wool. Very bloody warm (and cute). I would wear it to the kids' hockey games when they were small and they would always ask me "Do you have to wear that beanie?". Of course I did! I love it and it embarrasses the children and that is what is important. I have even been asked if it was a tea cosy. Please! It is obviously a piece of fashion and style for the ages. A side benefit is that it flattens my wild hair, for a while at least.