Women and Menopause Talk

I am 45. As in, my body according to my birth certificate is 45. My brain acts like it is somewhere around late crazy puberty -- say 19 -- and in my minds-eye I think I look 25. I just had my dental hygienist tell me all about her menopausal excitements and physical ailments, etc etc. I truly love that women can just blather on about menopause. I am fairly sure that many women in the past silently suffered through it, or grabbed guns and committed crimes (oh wait, probably not that) how about Felt Like grabbing guns or sharp implements or even pinching people at random. They had no outlet to express why or how or have understanding friends around to say "I know what you mean, I too wanted to pinch so-and-so."
I am thankful many women around me are experiencing this. I used to think it was boring to be a man, same ol' hormones, day in, day out. No mad rush of estrogen, no wild ride of hormones, no small furies that fill the sky above your head with sparkly dangerous lightning. As I fall deeper into this magical menopause land, I am thinking the ability to "put a cork in it" when I am doing one of my insane sounding grump fests might be nice. Especially when I am doing it to a newspaper reporter. Sometimes my "off" button is misplaced on my mouth. And that is not normal for me. I know I am going to be one of those in-your-face 70 year old women that everyone rolls their eyes at. At least I am getting used to it since I have a teenage girl.
Image courtesy http://www.flickr.com/photos/the_dugghouse/2443605131/

Chicken Update

The golden-laced wyandottes that we ordered this spring are almost grown up. They are past the awkward teenage chicken years. Now they are pullets but sound like baby chicks. I had a friend take care of them when I was in Michigan, and she said she kept looking around for baby chicks and then realized these big pullets were 'cheeping.' We have five. One bit the dust when we first brought them home.

Our one year old welsummers are but two. The red-tailed hawks swooped on a couple, and a neighbor dog got the other. They are more cautious and smart about running loose, but obviously no match for birds of prey and out-of-control dogs. One welsummer has decided she needs to sit on her nest and hatch unfertile eggs. We can all feel somewhat motherly and withdrawn at times, so I am going to let her work through her broodiness. My neighbor told me to surround her with a cage including food and water, and after about a week she will want OUT. I am just going to let her do her chicken thing. Her former partner-in-crime hen has been hanging around the front door. I frequently pick her up and carry her around when I do my outside jobs, since she is alone due to her broody friend. She seems to like the company. I had no idea chickens were 'breedists'... they definitely hang with their own kind. I try to get them to integrate and be compatriots with all their chicken brethen, but some things are just not to be messed with. I do notice similar temperament breed chickens hang together happily. Such as the buff orpingtons and the wyandottes. Those slow round easy-going types. Should I be offended that the welsummer hangs with me? Omigod. Am I a pea-brained colorful feathered loud sqaukin' spotty-egg layin' chicken type? Dang.