Yesterday was a "coop of dreams" tour (based on the popular Street of Dreams tours of million mansion around Seattle) set up by Emma June's PE teacher. We were on the tour but didn't get that many people because we were later in the afternoon and I think people were getting cold and weary by then. I did a lot of talking about our chicken Alcatraz to keep the raccoons out, and about Woodia's cross-beak. I did not get to talk about composting but oddly, people are not usually interested in talking to me about composting. I really need to get a composting thermometer so I can figure out if my chicken manure compost will be ok for my garden when it's done. The big thing is whether or not the high nitrogen content of the chicken poop is evened out enough so that it's not either too low (which I think will be the case with mine because I have too much shavings in with the poop) or too high (not enough green or shavings in with the poop).
I foresee the end of my nasty cold. I'm still not feeling completely like myself but at least more so. Last night we went to a holiday party for an old friend from my high school days and I actually got to enjoy myself instead of blearly looking through a fog of painful sinuses and an inability to breath without heavy wheezing.
I have changed so much since high school it is fun to hang out with people who though they may not have changed like me, think I'm just fine the way I changed. And it's not that I changed from who I was completely, I have become who I was with the same interests I had as a kid and am not sure who that teenager was. I made a comment last night about how "that sounds familiar in that "other person I used to be" sort of way." And that is how it feels. I wonder what made me segue to being a girl who only cared about how she looked and if she was "cool" and loved being in the city. I guess I was trying to run away from myself. But it's nice to still have old friends who still like me even though I could care less about fashion and "being cool".
You may be thinking "But you're in your 40's - do you really have old friends who worry about being cool?" Sadly yes. There are still plenty of old friends from back in the day who are still concerned about their image and whether they are famous enough or whether they are connected well enough to famous people. There is a small component of Seattle that is like a Hollywood-lite but full of paler people with heavier sweaters, but just as much high school concern about how cool they are. They are not very interested in me anymore. Their eyes glaze over when I talk about the stuff I'm interested in. Which is fine with me although it has taken awhile to let go of caring about something so shallow that was once so important to me.
Meanwhile, Emma June and I had a little debate this morning about whether or not she can ride Cross Country in Eventing when she's a teenager. I say NO! Or at least not until there are some better regulations concerning Cross Country courses. Right now there are too many people and horses that are killed doing it and in my opinion it is a macho self-congratulatory sport for insecure people to bolster their egos. It is not about being a sport of skill because if it were it would not have the added part where if you mess up you or your horse could die. People make reference to cowboys being full of themselves and macho, but not as many cowboys die each year riding the bucking broncos as the refined English riders riding Cross Country. And horses don't die from bucking. As soon as the bucking strap is snapped off the horse calms down and all is well. Don't even get me started on how much I disapprove of Cross Country on so many levels.