Did you know – well, who knew – turkeys fly?
They sure love to be all over the roof of my house, but they talk nicely.
Though they do not like to be separated. If they are seperated they cry and pace. Then they will fly.
Fly across to their family. Is that why I love to fly? Because it takes me home to my tribe? Fly me away home? And yes, in February I will be flying home. Home is not a place anymore – it is a people.
Cows love to stand close to each other too. They call their people home. Not a field. A herd.
Not so much with cats. Cats don’t care. Cats can stand alone with ease. This is LuLu – we don’t see her often, she keeps to herself – she is my oldest cat. She does not like people very much and I respect that about her. Most of the time I feel the same, though sometimes I Long for talking company so strongly it straightens my spine with a jolt. Not the Hi honey I am home, where is my IPad company. Sometimes I miss my own garrolous, loud, chatty, messy, large, gorgeous, prickly, foodie, filthy, coffee and wine loving family so much I could lay my head on the floor and HOWL. But that is just the Spirit of Christmas catching up with me. I am not a Christmas girl. The Spirit of Christmas is my nemesis. It is my end. It is the poster girl of the tired girl. It makes me feel lonely. I want to cancel it this year. Run it off. Boot it out. I would send John somewhere festive if he would go because I know I am the downer in his Christmas. I want to just sit in this home of my many homes – alone and turn off.
But my animals and their pictures are my saviour. So I am working on the calendar and the little book of farm pictures for the children. Lots of pictures for smiles.
And on that fine and miserable note.
I miss you. I hope you have a lovely day.