Zaruma is in a fug because the turkeys keep bullying him. Some evenings I have to actually pick him up and put him in the yard for the night. One of his feet is a little damaged from the latest battle with Baby Turkey so I contemplated bringing him into the back veranda to convalesce with Doc (who has kind of rallied – vet tomorrow, Husband and you guys suggest) until Son gave me ‘the look’. ‘The look’ is an expression of incredulity and shock and it is very effective. Needless to say, Doc is in the back verandah and Zaruma is out in the yard, but Son has put the turkeys in with Daffy and Dotty, the Indian Runner ducks, in the adjacent yard. It’s not as complicated as it sounds.
The definition of being ‘in a fug’ is when:
1. you don’t collect the mail from the post office for a week and then you leave it in the car for another week and then you bring it into the house and put it aside unopened for another week because it looks a bit billy
2. the tiniest of tasks seems insurmountable so that it seems a long way down to your feet to put your socks on
3. your mind does 50 laps while your body just hangs around drinking banana milkshakes
4. tomorrow becomes your favourite word
5. you forget to buy your grade 2 kid the left-handed scissors he needs for art class
The first time I was hit badly by fugdom was due to the last thing on the above list. My failure to remember the scissors for the third week in a row compelled Son’s teacher to ask me rather pleadingly to provide them and, mortified, I raced into town and bought the scissors and returned to the school and gave them to the teacher with my face squashed into a pretend smile. Then, driving home, I sobbed so hard about those scissors that I could hardly breathe.
The fugdom is back with a vengeance and there are many logical reasons for this, like anxiety about Husband, about Doc and Zaruma, about Son, who seems to have absorbed some of the fug, but there is also something illogical about it because of the hugely joyful balloon at the bottom of my stomach, waiting patiently.
So tomorrow – yes, tomorrow, Friday – I am going to take all of the mail into the nursing lodge and deal with it in the company of Husband’s moral support and I will not write another post until it is done – that’s my Friday challenge – hehe!
And hopefully, tomorrow, Zaruma will be back to normal!
jmgoyder 