2000th post: Out in the country

Before I got my hair done, I stopped by the nearby Sharon Mills, a pretty county park

This is the River Raisin named for its color

I happened upon this place years ago when it was a winery while on a bike. Riding after the tasting was difficult.

I was hoping for more color from the trees but I liked the red wood of this bush

My friend raises chickens for eggs: 5 hens and one feisty rooster

Napoleon is a bantam rooster and has attacked me in the past. He guards his hens, 3 of whom are three times his size

A better pose taken last time but you can't appreciate the green iridescent tail feathers  or see his white spurs

bantam hens are so pretty. They are about the size of pigeons. Their eggs are one third of the size as the those from the big hens

Usually I let more time elapse between hair treatments but I want to look my best in Italy. The last time I went, 5 years ago as a reward for surviving a year of cancerland, my hair was just coming back as black, gray and white curls only an inch long. The curls are now gone and its not clear what color I really have underneath the dye. I don't want to find out. Still as I was surveying myself with my delusional eye, the same lying eye that enables me think that I really don't look that bad, that I am actually running instead of some spastic version of speed walking, and I'm not really that fat, my hair looked pretty good and root free going there. Now it is too short and much darker but that will pass. And I will need much less product to make it look presentable, important as we will be travelling light.

Still Steve questions why I have to make a 65 mile round trip to deal with my hair. My stylist worked downtown Ann Arbor for many years before having her last child 3 years ago. I really like her. She's an interesting mix of goth and Mormonism with a heart of gold. She struggles with her weight and has taken up running again resulting in a 70 pound weight loss. She will run a half marathon this weekend despite carrying about as much extra weight as I do. As for my trip itself, not fun in the winter, I go by colorful fields, two llama/alpaca farms, beautiful country churches and cemeteries and then the mill park. It raises my spirits. Plus we yak away while she treats my hair and she is half the price as the downtown people.

Before my trip, a visit from Shanna (and Maya, we've been watching her a lot this week). I will take Tessa to an apple orchard later in the week. And then another farm trip that night as one of the Moms, who is hosting, has a farm, and raises Rhode Island Reds. And still taking care of lots of things for the trip.

2000 posts, enough to fill several books. Sometimes I am disappointed with myself as my writing does not stray beyond my laboratory notebook writing. No poetry or emotion, just the facts ma'am. Occasionally I look back (and see that I really should edit more carefully) and wonder what people must think. I go to the East Coast and make a report as if the whole trip was about having a convenient place to see jellyfish and eat crabcakes when the trip was so much more to me. First my stay with Soulmate reliving my college years and being treated as someone whose opinions matter about health policies and other issues, then my stay with my Maryland friend where we enjoyed late nights reliving our high school years and our struggles with children. I just can not put into words how much both visits meant to me and that frustrates me. Just where on the spectrum am I?