Dragna's Daily

Reading Fever I came across something I had yet to encounter; a physical description of someone who was on an HIV treatment plan. TWs before you continue....

I was shocked at how similar Bazzi's description matched what I knew of Cushing's, though completely unsurprised (I'm being told this isn't a word and couldn't possibly care less) at his feelings towards what he saw as a gradual deformation of his body. Evidently treatment options available now are far less effectatious (I'm being told this also isn't a word, and similarly don't care) to the body.

I'd spoken to my wife about this over breakfast, trying to wrap my head around what Bazzi was describing, and his reaction towards it. I work in software and clinical data support in the mammography industry, so my immediate (and probably incorrect) correlation was to breast cancer. Specifically to individuals who choose to have bilateral mastectomies upon finding out they have genetic markers that increase their lifetime risk factors of getting breast cancer.

My attitude, and this is not something I can be correct or incorrect on, it's just my gut feeling and opinion, was that I agreed with those individuals. I would choose a pot belly coupled with pencil thin limbs coinciding with more life. The alternative is so final, why wouldn't I?

I need to lighten the mood here though, and the farm definitely provided that today. The two new baby girl goats are really acclimating quickly to their new brothers, and working from home lets me peak in on the progress. Today they spent a good deal of time grazing in much closer proximity to Caleb and Seamus, and followed them up onto the little goat platform we built a little over a month ago.

This was before I started doing some quick mowing (didn't need to do much, we've had one rain in the last 6 weeks or so), and passing by their pen I noticed that Poppy was well...running at me. Definitely the wrong side of the fence. In my usual calm manner I cut the motor, ripped out my ear buds, and screamed for my wife who was completely on the other side of the property weeding the garden.

After a few minutes, honestly minutes I'm surprised how well this went, we were able to corner her in the feed stall. She put up as much fuss as possible as I carried her back in, trying to match my exact tone and volume. It looked like she'd just found a small section in the back of their pen inside that she could sneak over and make her great escape. Lucky for me I guess goats are hardcore herd animals, and Poppy had zero intention of running off into the woods.

Meanwhile towards the other side of the barn, I'd been catching a deer or two the last couple days hanging out under the mulberry tree. We'd actually tried to harvest some this year, but got a big patch of silk worms and decided not to try and jam what we'd picked. I did learn, though, that for birds at least mulberries are incredibly intoxicating. Prior to ripening (they go from green, to red, to black), their skin has a slightly toxic coating that does cause some neurological issues in humans, and some “drunkenness” in birds.

This evening, right around sunset I saw about 5 more deer under the mulberry tree, chomping away at the ripened fruit that had fallen, and I couldn't help but imagine that they were happily drunk, talking about the little bleating hoofed friend who had briefly tasted the freedom they daily enjoyed.