A thirteen year old boy died on Friday night about 50 miles south of town here. He’d stolen a car, and some gas, and shot at the police offers who tried to stop him. One of my officers was in the midst of it, but he missed the shooting by a few minutes. And they didn’t know the kid was only 13 at the time - in the dark, in all the chaos, and even after, they still believed he was in his 20s.

Not that that would make it better. Death is death, and this one was completely unnecessary. But somehow, that he was only 13, makes it worse.

Been thinking a lot about violence lately - the VT shootings, this… We live in a frightening world. A world full of angry and depressed and desperate people, and a world where the media makes stars out of those who commit heinous crimes. A lot of people blame guns. I blame society in general.

What’s wrong with us, that our children are so desperate and angry that they want to kill people - or themselves? What’s wrong with us, that we sensationalize crime and gore, that there’s never any good news on the front page of the morning paper? What’s wrong with us that we try to pass laws to ‘fix’ things, instead of getting to the root of the problem?

I don’t know. I don’t see us changing anytime soon. I don’t see it getting better anytime soon. I hope the families of this boy and the officers involved, and of course, the families of every victim of violence, find some peace and hope. I hope that boy has finally found some peace for whatever war must’ve been going on in his head and heart.

I hope we all do.

Finally, things are settling down. My second batch of chicks came in Monday. Sort of. I actually raced to the nearest big city (90 miles away) to pick them up from that post office, rather than wait the extra day it would take for them to be delivered, suspecting (with good reason) that if I did, most of them would die off again.

This time, when I opened the box at the postal sortation center, all but one were alive. Five have perished since, but overall, 16 out of 22 live chicks is far better than 8 out of 29! And boy are they all growing! My oldest chicks are two weeks old, and the youngest one week, and they’re all getting so big! And feathery.

And they’re still scared to death of me, mostly.

Silly birds.

How’s everything else going? Not too bad. Emergency trip to the second biggest city nearby to get cat food and groceries. And sheets, since my current ones are so well worn that the elastic no longer is. So I picked up new ones, with much trouble and despair. For one, why the heck is everything sateen these days? Sateen is a certain way of weaving the fibers to make a very… satin-like feel to the sheets, which I am not that fond of to begin with. I don’t like satin, and I don’t like sateen.

But I had to get some anyway. They had a half dozen colors in regular old 340-610 thread count cotton sheets (I refuse to buy 250-300 thread count sheets, too scratchy), but every single color was pastel or white. And everything in my room is so… not. So I griped and griped and finally settled on some plum colored sateen crap that didn’t feel too sateen like. And at least it matches. And at least it was on SALE. So I didn’t pay full price for sheets I am less than thrilled with.

Oh, did I mention that sateen sheets will take less wear and tear before they succumb to sheet-death? Yeah.

Knitting? Not much going on in the last week, I’m afraid, though I worked a bit on my backyard leaves scarf, and keep urging myself to use my new swift to wind up a skein of yarn to do Mom’s mother’s day gift. I got as far as putting the skein ON the swift. No further. Clearly, I need someone else to kick my ass, because I’m not very good at kicking my own.

That’s been the sick joke here lately. Chicks on sticks. Why? Because my chicks have been dying off like crazy. Okay, that’s a lie. Only five have died… since I opened the box last Tuesday morning. The rest were dead when I got them.

I officially have 8 chicks - at this moment. Here they are - except for the one with the pink dot - she died.

I ordered 29, got 13 alive (I never wanted to know what 16 squashed chicks look like, but now I do), and lost five in the next two days. The other 8 are healthy and chirping and happy.

Oh, and terrified of me. Of course. I’m trying to tame them down, handle them every day, all that bull.

But you know… it’s hard to capture them in this kiddie pool brooder - it’s too far across to just reach in and snatch one up, and so I have to frighten the shit out of them in my attempts to touch them. Not so cool.

But early this morning, I should be getting more. Hopefully not on Tuesday again - that seems a recipe for disaster. The hatchery has a 100% live guarantee, so they issued a replacement box of 22 chicks on Saturday, so here we go again, eh?

In other news… I’m knitting some more! Working away at Bakcyard Leaves again, and got another two repeats done last night. I would’ve maybe got a similar number done tonight, but… I left my new ball at home. So poo. I only have enough for maybe one. Maybe.

And speaking of… I ordered one more ball of yarn, and naturally, it’s a different dye lot. But I couldn’t even request them to check dye lots, because the earlier gropu of balls had no… no dye-lot stamp on them. At all. Didn’t even have the color name marked down. Suck.

So the very end of my scarf will be a slightly different shade. With this pattern, and the slip stitch border, I just don’t see being able to switch back and forth between balls every row to hide the differences. Damn, eh?

Oh well. Probably no one but me will notice. And if they do, screw them.

I’m counting down the hours and minutes until the chickens arrive. I don’t know when that will be, but I’m hoping today, in which case… anytime within the next two or three hours! Otherwise, it’s tomorrow morning. I really hope it’s not… because I want to see their little peeping heads! On the other hand, if it is tomorrow, I can not worry about how they’re holding up in their somewhat chilly brooder pool while I rush to the next town early this morning to fetch more lamps.

I’m feeling better about everything today! Hurrah.

For one, I got grandma’s gift done! But… I took it to show mom, and Grandma was there, and she asked if it was done… Well, Mom said “Yes, do you want it now?” and… that was that. So no pictures.

Yet. I will get them. *stealthily sneaks into Grandma’s house to get pictures of bag*

It is gorgeous, though a bit dirty. I didn’t even get a chance to wash it up. Oh well. It’s still pretty!

But I’m not gonna make one for mom. I’ve decided to do a couple (or just one) sachet out of her hank of yarn and stuff it with lavender. Something different. With a tight stitch pattern, it should be nice!

I’m now knitting a very bland knit-every-row square out of green merino wool on big size 11 needles. I’ll felt it up and make it into a potholder. Why? I don’t know. I needed something to knit while all the relatives were around that I didn’t have to worry about. Nice and easy. And dull.

But that’s the way she blows.

I have said very little in the last few days. I’ve been stressed with real life issues, and frankly, haven’t felt up to saying a word about it on here. My grandmother, who I’m very close to, has a terminal condition that will probably end her life within the month - a tear in her aorta that could… just rip open like a zipper, or burst like an aneurysm at any time. It’s been a depressing three weeks. First she was in the hospital for gall bladder surgery - they thought that was causing her chest pain. Then, a week later, she was back… and that’s when they discovered the real problem. She’s been having the pain since late January - it’s a miracle she’s lived this long.

I’ve been busy talking to my mother (Grandma is her mother) and visiting and just trying to keep busy in general.

I’ve also been working on the chicken brooder, and watching my herbs grow (that aerogarden really works wonders!) and shopping online for my secret pal, and for me, of course, and working an extra day this week, and an extra half-shift last week, and dealing with the fact that I am basically on my own for Easter due to my work schedule, despite the fact that the entire family (all my mother’s siblings) are coming up to visit Grandma, and dealing with the fact that I virtually had no birthday celebration, and certainly had no weeklong vacation/trip to the Big City to shop with Mom as planned, and not even a trip up to Canada to have Joey’s Only Seafood, as desired. And more, there’s been deaths in the families of two co-workers (hence the overtime) and with Grandma’s health the way it is, there will soon be a death in mine, and there is no way I can plan to get out of town anytime in April for a week (since my first plans at the end of March were cancelled due to the gallbladder surgery), and I’ve just got the feeling that I won’t be doing anything in May, either.

And dammit, I’m /stressed/.

Beyond measure.

And the chicks are coming Monday, and I had a crisis about the feed that I have to try to resolve in a couple hours when the hatchery opens up so I can call and have them change my order slightly. And I still have no coop, though at least I have the brooder part - hopefully - figured out, but I have to get cracking on it that this morning, and tonight. And tomorrow. And I have to clean my house because it’s driving me nuts, and god forbid some uncle want to stop by (I doubt it, I’m sure everyone will be busy, but one never knows, of course) and I really wanted to dye eggs - both for Ostara and Easter, but I just don’t think I have time…

I’m running out of breath here, and all I’m doing as typing. Please. Remember to breathe while you read this.

Everything just seems overwhelming at this point, and I really need to sit down and take a long bubble bath, and chant quietly to mysef: And this too shall pass.

In the midst of my upset-ness two days ago, I shuffled the tarot deck and drew a card about the situation with Grandma. The first one I drew was the nine of wands, and it really impacted what I /wanted/ to do - fight. Fight on. Do something - anything - to keep Grandma going. And then I asked myself what I /needed/ to do in this situation. And I drew the eight of cups. Let go.

I don’t want to. But all things must come to an end. All of us will one day pass on, and the only thing those left living can do is let go, and move on.

I just wish it was so easy as all that.

Anyway. If I am still more absent… this is why. Busy with chicks - and gods, how I need a symbol for renewal and life right now - and busy with family, making the most of what time we have left, wishing that I could go back and change the past and visit her more often than I did.

But we all have lives to live, paths to walk. I have many, many good memories, and will always have them. And I have time now to make up for what I may have lost.