Try try try

I'm working on the decluttering dehoarding thing-it's slow going and painful.  Honestly though-if I were to be completely frank (like I ever am anything else BUT) it's not really any harder than any other hard task.  When I get overwhelmed-I sit back and try to evaluate-is this on a 1-10 scale really THAT hard?  I'd give it a 7-and and 5 or 6 if I'm really working well at it. 

Even what has become my standard wailing point-"It just takes sooooooo long"...isn't really a valid point.  Grad school took 18 months-this is taking a few weeks.  Well shit.  I'm getting really good at overcoming my own objections-without-and this is key-turning around at attacking myself for having them.  Lazy, good for nothing, stupid....nope-just stubborn and offering my opinion-kind of like several dogs and a horse I know of.

Oliver is helping too-when I find something I go "OH Look at THIS" and he's delighted with whatever I find-even if it's garbage.  He just likes to feel involved.  His favorite response is "GOOD LORD" unless it's something he wants for himself-then it's "oooooooooooh" and he proceeds to make himself as charming as possible.  We have a lot of boxes and bags around right now-but there are plenty of paper sacks I can spare for him to shred-so he's a happy guy right now.

The kitties are off for their surgeries-and he's NOT happy about that.  He saw them leave (one was using his special carrier) and he doesn't like that at all-no no no.  He keeps asking me "You want a kitty?" and he meows a lot.  They'll be back Monday and all will be well.  For some reason, in his birdy brain, the kitties belong to him.  I don't know why, but it's clear he believes that they are his and my job is to clean up afterward and feed them.

Casper is going on pasture rest and maybe permanent retirement-and I have leased a gelding to ride for now while this all plays out.  It really kind of bothers me because Casper did not like Socks-but Socks was available and he's the right size, training level, etc. so I try not think about that part.  Socks thinks he's hit the mother load because I don't ride that much or that hard-so Easy Street suits him fine.

If you Get a Chance

I've never introduced anyone to anyone in blogland-I usually just let people wander over and introduce themselves.  Lithia is new to blogging and new to altered books-and I was wishing I could introduce her to some of you guys-so, what the heck, I just did.

I doubt I will ever become a social butterfly-but who knows?

Hopefully I am smarter than the bird

I really am concerned that Oliver might be awful if someone ever started crying in my living room.  Worrying about things like that keeps me from doing anything productive.

Anyway-we were watching some reality show that involved bawling and he started in with the jeering and it just hit me-so I said, nicely "Oh No NO NO....Mister BIRD-when someone cries you say "I'm Sorry".

Then I proceeded to make crying noises and then say brightly "I'm sorry".  Oliver tipped his head and watched and listened intently.

Finally-I bawled and bawled and asked "Now, what do you say Mister Bird?" and he puffed up importantly and said "You want some POPCORN?"

I choose to see this as step in the right direction, because he didn't shout OH BOO HOO HOO CRYBABY.

I know exactly where he learned this in the first place-the last season we watched The Biggest Loser it was a big cryfest and it annoyed me.  Now when he does it and I'm crying it makes me laugh and feel better but I'd like to teach him a more appropriate default behavior just in case someone is upset and not so inclined to think everything Oliver does is perfect.

Yesterday it rained and we watched a remake of Night of the Living Dead.  He started laughing and laughing and that made ME laugh and I thought there is no one on the planet I'd rather watch a zombie movie with than Mister Bird.

Falling Falling

Letting go of things is so hard to do.

I'm dealing with a couple of big gorillas my living room.  Agility makes MY feet hurt-even training is too much for my ankles.  Riding makes my horse's feet hurt-even an hour, with a lighter rider than me.  I hate this physical limit stuff.

I hate not being able to do everything I want to do and I hate hate hate no knowing what to do.

Right now I'm going to sit and cry.  A lot.  And loud.  Loud enough to make Oliver the parrot screech "OH BOO HOO HOO crybaby".  That bird is so inappropriate sometimes......he cracks me up.

Please Be Safe

All you East Coasters-Earl's a comin.  Be safe, warm and dry.