Ponder this:

Monday, March 29, 2010

Yet Another Turkey Story

It was back to work today, the doctor's note only having released me "until 3/29." I attempted but couldn't quite achieve a belief that "until 3/29" could mean "through 3/29."  I considered, too, amending the date on the note to "3/30," but I think that would be illegal. 
Which wouldn't have hindered me if I thought I could have gotten away with it.


Tomorrow is Listen To The Lungs Day, after which, if I am judged to be "still wheezy," I may be prescribed Prednisone. I devoutly hope not to have to use it since I know a woman, poor soul, who has some condition that requires regular steroid use. Her face looks like a blown-up balloon, one eye puffed shut. I can't imagine how I would apply makeup to make that a good look for me, so I plan on using my handy dandy albuterol inhaler immediately before the Lung Listening.


Sitting upright for seven and a half hours almost did me in, I must say, after several days of napping at will. And now I'm trying to hold off bedtime sleepiness so as to enjoy my evening. Soothing windy and rainy weather sounds are conspiring against me, and all I have to ponder to keep bedtime at bay is yet another turkey story.


Late yesterday afternoon the turkey flock was on parade.  I looked, at just the right moment, down the field and saw a few hens grazing their way through the hedgerow, followed by two toms in full array, hesitation stepping, side by side. So stately was their procession that I had the impression that somebody in the group should have been carrying a banner. 
I've come to believe that those two are younger toms showing off for each other.  The large old four star general was way out in front of the flock.  He appears neither impressed nor intimidated and doesn't bother to engage in all that wasteful posturing. When push shall come to shove in the mating game, he most assuredly knows all the tricks, and showing off your big puffy feathers isn't what gets the job done.


Even after daily sightings of the group, they transfix me.  I stood and gazed out the window, exclaiming softly. Max poodle, much too small to be able to see out the window, but certainly attuned to any interest that pulls attention even for a moment from his own small apricot self, and never far from High Alert, knew there was Something Out There To Which Attention Must Be Paid.  I was able to reach and open the door before he crashed through it to stand fully and stiffly extended, facing northeast and barking, barking . . . in a slightly bewildered tone, the flock of fowl being around the house to the southwest and therefore completely invisible to him. 
The hens listened for a few seconds and decided that the source of that annoying sound would eventually discover their location. (They haven't had a lot of exposure to Max's guarding technique.) The general led the hens off to the south, across the width of the field, the two young soldiers forming the rear guard. The flock disappeared through the brush that surrounds the stone wall bordering the field.
The two young stalwarts stopped, still in perfect side-by-side formation, and  remained motionless in the opening for the length of time that it took for the family to find their way to safer ground.  Then they too melted away.


What a show.

13 comments:

Von said...

Whow!What a marvellous description!I can picture it all and would love to have been there, given my attraction to poultry of all kinds, never edible of course!
Hope the lungs do their best.Prednisolone isn't that bad you know if the use is occassional and limited.It can be a marvellous help and if you're fairly active doesn't have to mean bloating and all that.Good luck!

Hilary said...

You sure have a way with words. That was a very descriptive tale. I almost felt like there was a video attached.

I sure hope you're on the mend and won't need the Prednisone. Sending best thoughts.

rachel said...

A lovely account of your flock!

But you've passed your whatever-it-is-itis on to me, you know. Who knew that blogging about being ill made it catching? Hope we are both better soon.

Autumn Mist said...

This is beautifully written, June, as I have come to expect (and fully appreciate). I am fascinated to know male turkeys are toms. I don't know the medication you describe, but really hope you turn out not to need it, but also that you feel really well soon.

June said...

I joyously report that no Prednisone was prescribed. My lungs sounded "like different lungs" to the doctor. Yahoo!

Thank you all. You've paid me the very highest compliment...that you could picture the scene!
And Autumn Mist, "beautifully written..."!! Music to my ears.

Rachel, I am so sorry you have The Disease. Hie thee to a medical professional: it doesn't seem to want to retreat without the application of defensive weaponry.

Anonymous said...

followed by two toms in full array, hesitation stepping, side by side. So stately was their procession that I had the impression that somebody in the group should have been carrying a banner.
*************************************

You are describing my two sons when they were young teens !

Yet another marvelous 'photograph' for me to enjoy

So happy you are on the mend !

Inay said...

I know. prednisone will make bones brittle if you become dependent on it. Prednisone is like an oral chemotherapy..
i used that on my youngest...
long ago because of asthma..

now the doctor removed it from her so as to avoid bone brittle and breakarage....

Peace be with you at least you can write something beautiful...

health is wealth...
if you have grapes...in your ref..
a fresh grapes everyday...will lessen that attack

I did it to my kids and really it did pay off...

so if you are eating vegies and other fruits..

always have a grapes on your plates..

god bless

Friko said...

Love you talking turkey, you are seriously good at observing and describing them.
Any time you feel like telling more tales, count me in.

Prednisone for a short time doesn't blow you up, but it'll do your lungs some good. Thank you for reminding me how I looked when I had to take the stuff for a whole year, in high dosage. Balloon is putting it mildly.

Abraham said...

I am remembering some of this myself. Those were the days when people kept all sorts of animals and birds.

jinksy said...

Gives a different slant on a ragtime Turkey Trot...Maybe it's time the dance came back into fashion, and the turkeys were an advance publicity trick to bring this about?!

Carolynn said...

I love these brushes with nature. They're simply magical.

I also couldn't help but relate your observations about posturing and what really gets the job done to we human species.

Barb said...

I could imagine this - a movie in my mind coming through your words. Sorry that you had to return to work still not feeling well. I'm still on the couch!

June said...

Anon, your sons sound as if they were perfect specimens of adolescent male behavior!

Inay, yes, I guess grapes are good for all kinds of things…the skin is practically magic. Unfortunately, my throat will not accept grapes as a swallow-able item. I don’t know where this came from, but in my mind, grapes in my mouth=the eyeballs of goats in my mouth. Odd, no?

Friko, thanks. I hope you didn’t find that part offensive…I questioned whether or not I should include it…but vanity was the real reason I wanted to avoid it. If I needed it to keep me alive, I’d throw vanity out the nearest window!

Mr. Lincoln, yes, those were the days when almost everybody had some chickens, a cow or two (or access to a neighbor with a cow or two). A little closer to life’s elemental nature, huh?

Jinksy, I daresay the turkeys perform better at the ragtime turkey trot than I would… I don’t even know what it is!

Carolynn, I know you would enjoy these sights. I often think of your otter sighting!

Oh, I was feeling okay when I went back to work, Barb. I just didn’t want to go back to work! :-P