Sweet Girl

Once again, rain is in the forecast for days and it reminded me of my ill-preparedness around this time last year. This time, I'll bring towels.

In other words, I think I understand what I'm dealing with now. It's still cold and dreary but with the right tools, it might just be manageable.

Of course, as I do, I'm writing in metaphor (for fun? out of habit? emotional inability to be fully transparent? Hesitancy of sharing too much on a public platform? I dunno) But I share and say to the extent in which I'm comfortable because chronic illness, rare disease, navigating the medical system as a woman who is also medicated for anxiety and OCD and being dismissed over and over and over and OVER again as "this is just your anxiety/stress/emotions" I so desperately want you -- you who might be struggling with some similar circumstance -- to know that someone out here gets it. And if you're desperately searching for answers and truths about yourself and why things might be happening the way they are, please don't stop. Don't give up. Take breaks and breathers when you need, but then keep exploring. If the road is blocked, find another path. Look for helpers along the way.

And always, always, bring your towels when it's pouring. That original post here
I love you.
Jess

A Donkumentary

For the third day in a row, it’s pouring. My grumpy donkeys huddle together in the barn as the rain batters the tin roof so loud that it rattles my bones—it must be deafening to their large ears. After piling their feeders with extra hay in lieu of typical grazing time, I pull the hood of my rain coat over my head and slide the barn door shut behind me. Like a million pellet guns, the drops strike my whole body.

The ducks scatter around the yard, rain wicking from their slick feathers. Like children in a ball pit, they bounce and play gleefully in the growing muddy puddles. The chickens on the other hand, band together in one of their coop’s nesting boxes even grumpier than the donkeys—wide, feathery, pissed off floofs. I make sure they’ve got dry food, then check to make sure none of my little infant…

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‘Twas the Night Before Donkmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Some small creature was stirring; could it be a mouse? There weren’t any stockings because I don’t care: Festive decor is not quite my affair. Two dogs were sprawled out all across the big couch While I couldn’t sleep, which made me a grouch. I... Continue Reading →

Softness

Reblogging this post because I barely slept last night and have spent the last 24 hours feeling like a hermit crab who left my old shell without finding a new one yet—exposed and vulnerable.

Mind your softness always, but especially today. Check on your soft friends. Honor your gentleness. Know that you are so, so loved.

Your life matters. Your soul matters. And your softness is stunningly beautiful.

I love you,
Jess

A Donkumentary

I’m sitting in my spot—the one in the far, left nook of the couch by the window that looks out towards the donkey’s barn and pasture—as my coffee cools and the night is swelling into its final, heavy moments before the prick of dawn. I spent the fifteen or so minutes before this trying to meditate without much success. Meditation for me looks more like a whack-a-mole game of trying to silence my internal dialogue. Relax your face, I tell myself. Soften your shoulders. I don’t know how I’m going to respond to that angry email I’ve let sit in my inbox for a day. I guess it was my mistake that got me there, but it was a mistake nonetheless. And I owned it. But the world seems so unforgiving these days.

Relax your throat. Deep belly breath. Notice the crickets outside. Mistakes are supposed to help us grow…

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Mini Donkey: Big Hero

The internet gods reminded me this morning about this story from three years ago. Usually when I wander down memory lane, it always seems like “just yesterday” and “where did the time go?” Oddly enough, this story feels like a lifetime ago. I guess that’s what happens when in three years, both the external and my internal world have flipped over and over like cooking pancakes. (Do y’all do multiple pancake flips when cooking? I’d say I’m a 6-to-7-times flipper).

ANYWAY. I’ll always be in awe of my sweet mini donkey, Tee and how once upon a time, he save mine and my son’s lives ❤ Read more below.

https://adonkumentary.com/2017/10/12/mini-donkey-big-hero/

A Donkumentary

**I want to start this post by noting that contrary to popular belief, not all donkeys are natural guardians, especially mini donkeys like my little Tee. Please don’t assume donkeys will act as guardians—in fact they can be quite vulnerable to predators. Make sure that if you own donkeys that their fencing, paddocks, barns, and sheds are secure to keep them safe from threats.**

That being said…

Earlier today, I was out fixing part of the fence in the pasture while my two year old son sat next to me drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick. The town’s roaming flock of guinea hens fluttered about on my property with four young guinea chicks in the center of the group. As I secured a new section of chicken-wire, the guinea-hen flock suddenly burst into a frantic squabble. I turned to find a small-ish (I’m assuming young?) feral hog charging…

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