Update

I have a long post coming up on this blog. I need to finish it up and edit it. It's edifying. It's about someone about to die.
I now have a real paying job at a nationwide retail outlet.
School's finished for the year. Woohoo!
I was nearly in a car accident (caused by the combination of bravechickens' learning driving status and her mother's fanatical driving...no mom, you're still awesome...)
I like to watch Oprah now.
I've discovered SO much of my homecity in the last few day compared to my whole lifetime. My homecity is COOL!
I've discovered the world of zines by an actually successful zine-maker. The guy looked like Adam from Mythbusters.
I'm addicted to Yahoo! Answers.
Hmmm, I also have a whole heap of book reviews to do as well.

Cheerio!

000: I have a Prolapsed Hen

^ What's cookin' good lookin'?

One of my lovely girls (lets call her Hen A) recently suffered from a very bad medical experience. This happens to cows, cats, dogs and humans too. I'm talking about prolpase. Wikepedia might just be too wordy. Here's a simple summed up version of the prolapse which happened to my hen:

A muscle popped out of my hen's butt. This muscle is found inside the coaca (anus/rectum-I don't know the difference) and aids in pushing the egg and poo out. Usually, it pops back in. But if a hen is too old, young, weak, obese or malnutritioned, this muscle stays out to catch the view from the backside of a chicken.

Gross much? Here is a picture of what a prolapse in a hen looks like. Warning: may cause squirming.

Oh, and another thing? She had maggots around her butt as well.

So...what did I do to fix her up?

• Seperated Hen A from Hen B


• Researched Hen A's medical emergency like a chickenlovin' loony non-stop.


• Quarrantined Hen A into a cardboard box in laundry (much to my mother's chagrin).


• After discovering the fact Hen A has prolpase, researched remedies.
  
• Most effective remedy was... TO PUSH THE THING BACK IN.


• After registering the shock, prepared equipment for Hen A's 'surgery' alongside with sibling.
  
• Equipment included: 1 surgical mask, 1 pack of ear cleaning sticks, tea tree oil, white vinegar, apple cider, honey and disposable gloves.


• Prepared laundry sink for operation table by filling up halfway with lukewarm water. Added drops of tea tree oil, vinegar and apple cider.


• Cleaned Hen A's vent (butt area) up. SO GROSS AND SMELLY!


• After butt cleanage, sibling and Bravechickens (BC) started on second stage of 'surgery.' REMOVING THE MAGGOTS. This task was completed by yours truly. Using ear cleaning sticks, maggots were removed, one by one, hour by hour. Bravechickens' patience, labour and love for Hen A was of the utmost degree.


• Due to lack of hairdrying equipment, Hen A's vent was 'dehumidified' using a heater (in loungeroom).


• Vent didn't complety dry up, which turned out to be a good thing due to the advising of a good Samaritan from America.


• Remaining stray maggots were promptly removed.


• *drumroll* BC placed her finger/s onto prolpase and pushed the muscle back into Hen A's bottom.
  

This all happened between 12am and 5am. A sleep diprived teen had actually become transformed into a pseudo-surgeon, working on her patient until the wee hours of the night to save her beloved chicken.

Continuously, for the next three days or so, I kept Hen A on maintainence. This means that I gave Hen A just enough food to keep her alive. I also had to keep Hen A in a dark area, so the girl won't go on to produce babies (eggs). Oh, and I did continue to push the prolpase back in a few times a day. And then slather the thing in honey (and sugar a few times as well).

Sadly, due to the fact that chickens can be dumb, have a pecking order and forget their mates, Hen A had been kept indoors for 72 hours, thus forcing a tough love approach by myself to re-introduce her to Hen B. I'd read on a forum that a mysteriously named blue spray would prevent her from pecking her prolapsed booty. So I made one, out of water, blue food colouring and some cornflour. Did it work? Hell no.

FINALLY though, on the sixth day after Hen A's diagnosis of icky prolapse, a miracle occured. HEN A'S BOTTOM WAS PROLAPSE FREE! YAY!

How did I feel? I felt happy and grateful. I've had my sweet gals for three years now (four years this February). I'd say they're about 60 or 70 in human years. I love them to bits. They're smart and gorgeous and 110% lovable.

P.S: Ugh, I know this post is riddled with typos, but I cannot be bothered nor do I have the time. :(

Fly in Fridge

The artfully edited and caption (done by yours truly) just says: I've got hair on me bum, hehe!

It is unfortunate to be pestered with a fly. It is even more unfortunate to be pestered with three metallic green flies, who are the size of a plump sultana and live up to the onomatopoeia (have a go at spelling that!) given to their main mode of transport-flying in air-buzzzzzz.

Anywhoo, what happened was that as I was putting away the many items back into the refrigerator after dinner, a fly flew in. Hugely gross-as there are many items of food which are not covered, such as pieces of watermelon, and a salad (don't ask, it's normally one of the kid's job to cling wrap leftover food, but who cares, eh?). I tried to shoo it out. But it kept on buzzing into the cool white box. Then...it disappeared.

The question is, will I find it next time when I bite into a piece of watermelon?

Graduation

Yesterday the year 12s at my school graduated. Pretty soon I will be too. To think that after 13 years of full time study, you'll leave the educational institution which you attended five days of the week, roughly 40 weeks a year is scary. To think that you'll leave the place which taught you so many things, academic and non-academic is scary. To think that the people who you grew up with, best friends, enemies or not, is scary. To leave the teachers who have praised, punished and encouraged you is scary. However, coming to terms with the fact that you're now an adult, stepping into the 'real world' where you have to fight for yourself, and grow older, is the scariest.

When you finish highschool, it's kinda like having the rug under you being pulled, I imagine. Up until finishing year 12, you have a real goal, a purpose. You can mindlessly live through each day, knowing you have to go to school, do the work given, come back home, complete homework and watch some tv or just surf the net. Your teachers tell you what you need to study for this or that, and its only petty things such as friendship problems or assignments which might cause slight stress.
But when you're at University/TAFE, or out in the workforce, you have to fend for yourself. You have to learn by yourself. You have to worry about your job/car/rent/etc..

My advice would be to enjoy yourself at school. I'm not endorsing the breaking of rules or not even trying to get As on school reports. I'm saying that appreciate the teachers and friends you have. Say hello to some kid younger than you, who you might or might now know. Just once, don't study for a test all night, instead watch some tv or do something fun. Put your head down and have a power nap in class or play a paper game with your friend if you're bored in class. Maybe even wear two different coloured socks to school one day, and not bother about the French homework you have.

The things I've mentioned above shouldn't be done on a daily basis though. Try your best at every subject, and apply yourself 110%. Only sometimes its ok to slack off for a while, just not always.

I won't always be a kid, nor will anyone else. Have fun, within the proper limits. Make memories which you can look back on and laugh about. Don't forget about all the people you've met along the way, and remember to learn from everywhere.



TOK much?

T-U-G

T-U-G is a newly launched brand from Singapore (a very technologically cool country with lots of Durains to eat!).

The graphics on the t-shirts are pretty awesome, and the picture of the one above is my favourite, 'cause it reminds me of Kiki Strike.