Feb 1

 It was a beautiful start to the day, finding that Max is, in fact, on at least one egg, and that the archangels hatched one of theirs. 

Excited, I went to work on the heating situation. The power to the infra-red light was out, along with the heater for the fillbacks. The cord had shorted out, causing the plastic to show signs of overheating. The plug was fused together on one side of the socket, and wouldn't come apart. 

Around 2:30, I went to the flea market to replace the cord and surge protector that had also quit working. Twenty dollars got me, both, a pair of fifty foot cords and two power strips.

After routing cords and getting everything plugged in and working, I went upstairs to get ready to make dinner with confidence that things were handled well.

Snacking on leftovers with Riley, I decided to make fried potatoes with onions along with some hot turkey and cheese sandwiches.

Dinner was perfectly timed for Julie's arrival at 4:20. Looking out the window, she hadn't arrived.

Suffering her absence to eat dinner, I waited while everything was placed together in the skillet to stay warm.

Time dragged on, and I began to worry. I wondered when I would get a call saying she was in an accident.

Turning on her favorite show (friends), the anticipation and worry grew as the food got colder.

With a long deep breath, I reached for the phone to text her: "Hope you're okay.

At 5:03, Julie finally pulled up.

 I switched the channel to The Five, and waited for her to come inside.

"Thank Goodness, you're home. I was worried".

"I just sat in traffic for forty minutes," she exclaimed.

"Was there a wreck," I asked?

"I couldn;t see any signs of anything," she said.

"Well, dinner has been getting cold slowly. Are you hungry?" 

"We've got a new baby downstairs too," I said happily.

She went in her dressing room to change into pajamas, and I made two plates.

Enduring the news, I sat and ate with her. The food was not completely cold yet, making things seem to work out fine.

Small talk about nothing made time go by like everything was normal but there was anxiety that kept telling me there was something that I should be doing. The feeling of being a bull in a china shop was creeping on me. 

William flew from the kitchen to the dining room, and I started talking about trying to let them both out of the cages today to have time to fly and move around. Maybe it would calm them down and relax them a bit but when I did that they went right to fighting and wouldn't quit so, I put Bernie back in the cage.

When the news was over, I decided to find something to watch together in order to focus time on Julie.

Scrolling the channels, there were a few things that interested me. I put one show one and returned to scrolling the other channels.

Thinking that maybe Julie would like it, I switched to Mean Girls. My understanding was that it was about girls and school drama, and that it would remind her of the grandkids and her daughter, and that she might enjoy it.

As the story unfolded, I had a hard time absorbing it. The whole story and everything about it was not entertaining to me, and I was actually repulsed and disgusted with myself for watching it. It just seemed to make me feel negative.

Negative energy was bombarding me and affecting my mood. I was becoming upset but I wasn't really sure why.

As the show was getting close to the end, I told her that I was going to check on my pigeons to see how they were doing- maybe see a peek of the new baby and see if the other one hatched yet.

Entering the room, all was normal and calm. Looking in at the Archangels nest, I could easily see that the parent was panting. It was too warm. 

Not being able to get a good view angle, I retrieved my toolbox to stand on.

Seeing the baby in front of the parent's breast, it wasn;t moving.

Reaching in, It was way too hot.

The baby was dead from too much heat.

I was devastated.

For days, I have been fretting over the warmth they need, having lost the first one due to the cold. And now, I have killed the second chick with too much heat!

Sickened with myself, I dashed upstairs with the dead squab in my palm. 

"Julie! It died. I killed it with the heat, and now the egg is probably cooked too! They are going to be so upset with me. I can't keep killing them like this. This is the part I have to get right!" 

Taking the chick from my hand, I placed it upon a ziplock baggie that I am germinating spruce seed in, to later bury in the yard.

A few times, I walked past it, hoping that I would see it move but it remained lifeless.

For an hour, grief stricken, I mulled over what I have been doing, what I have done. 

She went on to warm the bed, while i sat stewing in my ignorance.

Finally, I went into the bedroom. Earlier, I had told her the plan of how I was going to give her the body sculpting treatment and that I had taken a Viagra. 

Climbing into bed, I didn't have the spark in my heart for intimacy. And, even if I had it, I didn't feel like it was right to have it- that I didn't deserve it. 

Julie gave me a hug and held me for several moments in my sorrow. 

After several minutes, and all of those commercials, I shoved my feelings of sadness back down to accepting the bad with the good with memories of raising our chickens. All of the many chickens that were killed by the raccoons, all of the losses, the death, and all of the coons that I was forced to kill.

We ended up ending the night as we usually do, with my heart rate peaking at 138 this time. 

Soon after, the television was turned off to let the fan sing its one note accompaniment to the high pitch ringing in my ears... phantom crickets while my thoughts went back to my lessons.

Raising birds is not the easiest thing to do. The chicks die all of the time. You have to get a lot more than you plan to have because of the mortality rate. It happens a lot but having them die due to your own stupidity is a different set of lessons to endure. It's just that they mean so much to me. I don't want to lose a single bird. The potential profit could have been $200 each, in the capitalist's world but they are worth far more than that to me.

In all of my silent moments, My thoughts are prayers for forgiveness and guidance, always praying only for navigation. These pigeons are small answers to those prayers. And, as silly as it might seem to others, they're everything to me. 10:12