Posted in Raised by a village

No Blood No Bandaid

Within 12 hours, I managed to get fire-ant pesticide in my mouth, sliced open my pinky-finger with the cat food can, and was bitten by a baby black widow spider twice on the leg. Compared with that, I didn’t mind spending 90 minutes in Friday afternoon commuter traffic. 

Thursday after work, I bottle-fed new baby goat John Lithgow. This newest kid was born on Tuesday to Queen Lillian, twin sister of Mary Poppins and daughter of Julie Andrews.  Not yet a year old, Lilly is a teen-mom and a little unsure of the whole mothering role. From day one, Julie Andrews displayed her head-goat status and confused John Lithgow by pushing Lilly away from her own newborn.  Either she was protecting her baby-with-a-baby, was trying to show her the ropes of motherhood, or she was missing her latest weaned twins. Julie Andrews became helicopter-granny-goat and possibly was holding a grudge since I weaned her twins (Bert and Ernie), relegating them to the bachelor pad pasture with Steve and Sam.

Since John Lithgow was a bit confused on who would provide nourishment, Jim fed supplemental bottles of colostrum and milk replacer. I fed additional bottles each evening after work and at 6 a.m. before heading to the office. Normal stuff and John Lithgow drank 4 oz of milk from the bottle with gusto. Then, he tried to nurse from both Julie Andrews and Queen Lillian. 

After bottle-baby feeding, I walked the yard with a bag of fire-ant killer. Sprinkling insecticide on the never-ending mounds of red torture insects, I silently hoped this bag would be the one that killed the queen.  Just then, I bent over as I shook the bag and caught about a teaspoon of the flakes in my mouth.   Bleh! I spat and rinsed my mouth with water for what seemed an eternity. “Jim, in case I fall on the ground, I just inhaled a mouthful of fire-ant killer.” I told Jim.  He asked the obligatory  “What did you do that for?” And I resumed my ant-hill search and destroy mission.

Poison control did not have to be called and at 5:45 am Friday, I opened a plastic can of cat food and cut the top of my pinky. It started bleeding and required direct pressure and a bandaid. Getting dressed, I donned my jeans and immediately felt stinging pain below my left knee. I pulled off the pants, turned them inside out and found a tiny black spider. Two welts rose, and pain shot through my leg. I squished the spider, picked it up with tape and labeled a Ziploc baggie “spider that bit me.” Quickly, I researched spider bite and since my tetanus shot is only 3 years old, I decided to take Tylenol, and applied an icepack to my leg while I drove to work. 

Aside from a bit of nausea, a few cramps and a mild headache, the swelling spots on my leg went away by mid afternoon for the most part. John Lithgow took another bottle of milk and I watched the sunset over the cornfield. 

See, it’s not all goat yoga… sometimes it’s just weird stuff that happens. We keep striving in the craziness that seems to be normal. I can’t fix all of the nuttiness. I certainly can’t please everyone, but for now, my spidey-senses tell me that I’ll be okay. 

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