Sometimes I can't help but gasp at my life. Sure I try to laugh about my life, and sometimes I cry. But there are other times, that instead of any laughter or tears, a giant gasp escapes my mouth.
Like the other day when I went outside to feed the chickens some scraps... I found myself endearingly and kindly talking to the chickens as they scampered on top of each other to get to the edge of the fence to see what I had for them. Not only was I telling the chickens to be nice to each other, I realized I was talking in a voice that up until that moment I have only ever used FOR HUMANS.
Oh good heavens.
I think the chickens are disgusting. I refuse to eat any of the eggs they lay. I'm scared they'll peck my feet when I stand next to the coop, and I jump a mile (and let out a little scream) if one of them jumps up to try to reach what I have before it releases my hand.
But I love to go out and feed them everyday. I even spoke lovingly to the chicken laying an egg today, even though I inwardly swore I would never eat another egg for as long as I live. I also became mildly concerned, and let out a slight gasp this evening at dinner when after one bite of my chicken (from the store thank you), I pushed aside my plate.
One of my biggest gasps as of late, occurred this evening when I glanced out my kitchen window and saw Luke burying an elk head in my back yard.
Apparently, after it has been buried in the garden for 6 months, it will be reduced to pure bones, and the skull and horns will be ready to adorn his bedroom wall.
Whhaattt?? you say?
I said the same thing.
Luke is thrilled that his dear friend Paul, saw fit to gift such a trophy to Luke. I am no animal lover (chickens aside), and I feel blindsided by this poor elk who met its fate on a mountainside three days ago and now gets MY garden as its final resting place?!
Sometimes I laugh. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I gasp.
I think the elk head has made me do all three.