Seth

cohost taught me what I want in a social media--limited reach, a medium length format, and room to play with the format (thank you, css)

it also gave me space to reset/refresh who was in my circle--my fb and twitter are poluted with people I don't know how to interact with due to... well i guess trauma's the fastest way to describe it--and cohost guaranteed the ones I did not want to chance seeing my Rich Inner Life would not. This liberation spawned both the self portrait I have pinned and the associated essay on inherent value, two things I treasure for the way they reseated me¹, plus a myriad of Silly Things I would not have tried elsewhere, as the freedom to be Silly is forever tainted for me on those platforms.

I'm going to miss not being Under The Gaze of Metrics; I've only just begun learning just how far reaching its affects are in me.

1. and of course a vital attribution to bell hooks's the will to change, which was the catalyst

I am so tired of this week. It's been a series of chicken deaths and severe injuries, plus things breaking, spilling, or otherwise being frustrating.

We've been working on integrating four new pullets into our coop of four (two laying, maybe three?); they've been being raised in our garage and were finally big enough to be OK outside. We usually fence off the area of our tractor that's underneath the coop so the two groups can get acclimated, and then let 'em join after a few days. On Wednesday we found a trail of blood and feathers. Something had managed to kill one of the new pullets through the fence, and then worm the corpse down along the fence and out of a tiny hole. The pullets had been in the tractor for, idk, four days? so we figured this was as good a time/reason as any to pull the fence and get them sleeping in the coop proper. The ""original"" flock definitely were bullying a little, but it didn't seem too violent, and the pullets had a box they could slip into for some peace, so we thought things were OK, but: Thursday morning we came out to our sweetest new hen a bloody mess, her head pecked bare.

We pulled her out, Em cleaned her up, I drove out a town over to get some veterycin, and she gets sequestered in our bathroom, hardly moving. (at the point of writing I'm really hoping she pulls through; she's moving and drinking and pooping... but she's not (or can't?) opening her eyes so it's not easy and we'll be treating her head for a while) This morning, we wake up to find something has ripped and dug through part of the plywood of the chicken tractor and murdered another pullet plus one of the flock 😡😡😡

Along with all of the chicken tragedy, I have: turned my ankle (thankfully I was able to walk the next day, but I still can't move it as much as I would like), cleaned up a bunch of spills (we're all just... dropping things right now??), and discovered my favorite (and relatively new) sandals have a broken metal ring. I'm also still coming home from work completely depleted since it turns out it costs twice the executive function eggs when you know your work isn't valued and you're getting moved to part time at the end of the month.

Can I get a new week, please?