It’s just depression, nothing serious.

I do not suffer from depression. I do not battle depression. I have depression and we live together.

In a very short time I will have existed ex-utero for sixty years. I have to believe that depression has been a part of my existence for all of that time. It is just some of what makes me the who and what I am. (along with some other professionally diagnosed mental illnesses). I yam what I yam, right?

I have become rather accustom to it. So much so that I have abandon the medications that are supposed to treat it. To make is less of ‘thang’ to have to deal with. Keep it from interfering with living. Yea, whatever the fuck that means.

You see, I have gotten used to the feelings, familiar with the thoughts and urges. Enough so that when they come, I accept them, follow them through (in thought) and see where they would eventually lead. I know that it is just a combination of a poorly functioning chemical system within my body and some very inadequate copping abilities. It is just me being me. And, when appreciated, run with and accepted, can be rather entertaining.

You see, what depression brings me is the ability to critique the fuck out of stuff. People, Places, Things. Especially myself. Together, depression and I can formulate some fantastic reviews of things. Quality and lighting quick sarcasm is not as much art as I think most people think it is. I think it is a symptom. That is just my opinion.

You see, while medication did diminish the effects of my imbalances what it really did was make me more conscious of what others may think or feel about what I was thinking or feeling. And, that sucks. It makes being unwell worse.

You see, depression is my problem, my issue, my damage, my illness. I have come to an agreement with it. We, together, the both of us, take pleasure and pride in our collaborations. To look at things and form an opinion and to share that opinion without filter. No concern for how that opinion may make anyone else feel. Any reaction to my opinion is the responsibility of the person choosing their reaction.

You see, when the idea comes to hang myself with an international safely orange, 12 gauge, 3 wire extension cord and the idea is not only a good one but the ONLY one, I know it is just my chemicals out of order and that it is just an idea. It is not something that needs to be acted on. I can accept is as the solution to whatever is going and I can not do anything about it too. Not being medicated has allowed me to find the humor in these feelings. Yes, there is a great deal of funny in the things a sick mind comes up with. Expressing them is not just entertaining but it is a necessary part of keeping that shite from becoming overwhelming.

You see, that which comes to my mind MUST be expressed, spewed, shared or it will devour me. What is made in the darkness of my mind can only be made harmless in the light. (Yea, I know, this dark and light shite has been over used and lacks originality but, it is so fucking accurate, had to use it)

So, depression is not my art but it is my tool, my brush, chisel, oil, clay what have you. It is the medium of my art. My art is the the things I say. Good, bad, ugly. Truthful, as I see it. Through imbalanced, damaged, childish, selfish, frightened, inadequate eyes.

I do not suffer from depression. I do not battle with depression. I accept it, collaborate with it, experience it and above all else, I live with it.

This is where I should apologize for making you live with it too but, honestly, I have nothing to apologize for. Living the best life I can for myself is not wrong. Living with all the feelings and thoughts my body wants to give is how I choose to spend the rest of my life. Taking that challenge and making art from it is my choice. I regret not having found this sooner. Life is short.

Peace,

Ant-Knee

More cattle stuff

Having accumulated 30 plus hours of ranch hand experience since my last post, thought I would up date ya’ll.

The list of things I have learned now includes

1. Bulls are just as stubborn as calves and cows, just bigger.
2. Even during ‘mud season’, there simply is no such thing as just mud in a grazing pasture.
3. This should be 2a or 2.1 but I cannot figure this fucking thing out. When following someone on a 4 wheeler, do not follow directly behind them. The not mud mud flying at you again, is NOT mud.
4. The “I’m a happy calf!” dance is better when there are a half dozen or so happy calves all doing it at the same time.
5. It is interesting how quickly you can become accustom to being surrounded by creatures that could accidentally smash the life out of you and more importantly, could stomp you from existence in anger if they should choose too. Cows are really pretty mellow.

Cat and Cow Similarities.

I have noticed too that cats and cows share a couple of habits, actions. First, they both associate certain sounds with being fed. For the cows, it is the sound of the tractor that pulls the hay wagon.

The hay wagon is not so much a wagon and a flat bed made from rough cut 2 X 12. It hold 4 bails. Each bail is held together by four strings. When you cut the strings, the bail comes loose. When the hay is bailed, it is in little flats approximately 3″ thick. (Rancher calls them ‘flakes’.)

Once the strings are cut, the tractor driver heads out at a slow pace. The hand (me) starts to knock off one flake at a time and pushes it off the wagon. The cows, ALL OF THE COWS are following the wagon. Many will be trying to eat the hay that is still tied in bails. You (the hand, me) pull and push until the bail has been laid out in single flake piles. Then, on to the next bail to do the same thing. Each feeding is 6 bails.

Oh, about cows and cats – the other thing they have in common is the unknown need to make their respectively assigned sounds (meowing and mooing) repeatedly and loudly as soon as they hear the sound they associate with food. I thought 3 cats was kind of annoying. (Mostly because it is really unnecessary, they will still be fed if if they are silent.) 200 cows is an entirely different experience. One I am glad I do not have to go through before coffee, unlike I do with the cats

Call me Jame.

Not everything is fun.

Cows and calves use scent to be able to recognize one another in a large pasture of large animals that all largely look exactly alike. I was told that in the days of yar, cows would clean up their birthing area by eating the placenta and licking clean their calf. This reduces the likelihood of predators, wolves being example given to me, tracking down the youngins’ . This process imbedded the scent of the calf on the mother and lead to the calf to imprint on the mama.

At times there can be a calf without a mama and mama with out a calf. When you have both, the ideal is to get the two together. There is a process called Grafting the Calf that is sometimes effective. It is very Silence of the Lambs.

You have probably already figured out what this entails. No? Oh, let me tell you then.

You take the deceased calf from the mother. Hang it up and remove its skin. (Another new thing I learned, skinning!) When you have the skin off, you cut a hole in the neck area big enough to fit over the orphan calves head. Then, you take the dressed calf back to the calfless cow. Usually the cow, smelling its calf lets the calf, seeing a full utter, feed. If they bond, everyone one goes home happy. If they do not, a heavy sigh with intermittent cursing.

Either way, my skinning skills are improving.

Damn it!!

It is in a beavers DNA to want to block running water. It is important that a ranch have running water. Water from the river and the creek are diverted out onto the fields that in turn grow the hay that is fed to the cows. That is of course, if the water can flow.

Beavers are industrious little fuckers.

Wearing thing high boots and armed with a five foot long hook, I got down into the water and repeatedly inserted the hook into the blocked culverts. Hook. Pull. Toss aside stuff. Repeat. In and of itself not terrible. However…

Being Wyoming, it had to be freezing and snow the night before doing this. No matter what you call the water source, river, creek, stream, ditch, when there is snow on the ground and ice on the banks, the water in the water source is really COLD! When you hands are in it, when it gets down into your boots, it makes YOU really cold.

Driving this and that.

There are a LOT of different motorized things on a cattle ranch. Each and every one of them is fun to drive. I hope I am still needed when all the stuff for hay comes into play.

Well, that is about it for now. I am sure something else will come along that I will want to share. In the mean time, have a big breakfast and do the “I’m a happy calf!” dance. I know you can see it in your head already. I know you want to do it.

Peace,

Ant-Knee

So, this is a cattle ranch

Today was the first day I worked on a cattle ranch. No, I did not get to ride a horse. That made me sad. I very much want to learn to ride so I can feel more comfortable wearing my four year old Stetson.

I am going to start with a list of things I learned. After that, if I am still awake, I may elaborate.

First thing I learned was, working on a cattle ranch is physically demanding and tiring. I am knackered. Not only have I not done much in the way of ‘demanding’ the last few years, I have also been a complete punk with exercising. That is to say, I just don’t do it. Add to that that this part of Wyoming has not gotten any closer to sea level and today was a workout.

These are the take-aways so far.

1. A heifer is only a heifer until she has a had her first calf. After that, she is a cow.
2. Calves, even just a day old, can be really stubborn.
3. Adult cows can be really stubborn.
4. Most everything about a calf, cow,, heifer or bull smells bad.
5. If it does not smell bad, it fucking stinks.
6. When securing a gate the chain goes around a solid, sturdy pole first.
7. There are a LOT of gates and poles on a cattle ranch.
8. Hay will stick to certain materials, like the ones all my clothes were made of today.
9. There is a reason they call this mud season.
10. Just because it is mud season does not mean everything stuck on you is mud.

I did not get to assist in any actual calving. I did have to use a dead calf to coax the cow into following me. It was sad but part of the business.

Cows sometimes have twins. Some cows are confused by having twins and will only accept one, take care of one. Also a sad situation.

I was under the impression when I was asked to come help today that is was a one off thing. I was wrong! I will be working the ranch as many days as possible (previous commitments and such) until the end of May. I am thoroughly excited about it, even if #4 & #5.

I have a lot of things on my to-do list since coming to Wyoming. I’ve not accomplished very many. It is unusual and I have lived most of my life with the motto, experience your curiosities! At least I got a little ‘cowboy’ going on. Still need to get on a horse, catch a trout and bring in a deer and an elk. Going to have to give up on finding a mentor and just go out and do that shit.

I believe the next six weeks will be eventful, educational and I hope entertaining. I will share more as it happens.

Yippe-Ki-Yay

I am seriously full of shit.

Let me first say, I am drinking low-cost bourbon. On the rocks with a bit of water. That alone should tell you something.

I am pretty much a fuck up. At my age (56 and 5 months) one should not be in debt up to their assholes with one EE Savings bond to rely on.  I’ve fucked up a lot of good opportunities. Let some great shit go for no reason I can think of other than, I am a fuck up.

However, as far as fucking up goes, I kinda get away with it too. I am not living in a box under a bridge somewhere. I have a roof over my head (only leaks in places I don’t spend much time) I eat, sleep, enjoy my cats and overall just live. More than a huge number of people on this ROUND planet.

I have people that care about me no matter how poorly I have treated them and how completely incapable I feel about being able to feel.

None of the latter has anything to do with why or what I am posting about. Just spewing.

So, here is why I consider myself to be so full of shit.  I do not know how to do anything.  Not one damn thing. Nada.

The thing is, I know that ‘doing stuff’ is how I can stay indoors and fed and taking care of my cats. Opportunity comes along ALL THE TIME! It does not knock, it drives down the road blowing its horn and screaming at you from a loudspeaker, “Here I Am, Take Me”

And I do. I cannot even guess at the number of times I have been asked, “can you do XXXX?” Nor can I guess the number of times I have replied, “Yea, sure.” without the slightest idea of what I was getting into.

I have never know how to do anything before I tried to do it. I have never been afraid of failing at something. (well, skydiving) Never have I been asked to something that has never been done before. Not. One. Time. So – no pressure. Whatever has been requested is possible. No pressure now.

Nothing I do is something I did not have to do for the first. So? Did I mention that I am a fuck up? When someone asks me, “can you…,” the answer is yes. Why? Because I am full of shit and know that,. whatever I say I can do, I will be able to find a way to do.

You cannot con the universe. However, you sure can skate and fake your way around it. Just say, yes. Then, do it. Do not say, “I don’t know how to…” Say, “Yea, sure.” Then, figure it out.

If a fuck up like me can get away with it for over 50 years, you unfuck types should be rocking new shit every single day.

 

 

All that oxygen.

I recently experienced the 56 anniversary of my birth. Nearly 57 years of requiring O2.

I realize there is nothing special about this as, any of you reading this have been doing the same since your conception.

What has come to mind today is: have I earned the O2 I have consumed in comparison to that that I have created?

The human body creates VERY little O2. Primarily we make Nitrogen. Hydrogen, Carbon Dioxide. Methane and, some O2. Oh, some sulphur, thus the scent.

Green things. Stuff the grows. PLANTS make Oxygen. Not only do they do that, but they also do it with exponential efficiency to humans. Not only THAT, but they also absorb all that CO2 we emit.

Do you garden? Do you have house plants? Do you have trees, shrubs, perennials in your yard? Do you contribute the supply of the O2 you consume?

I’ve no idea what so ever of the numbers, what I consume to what I help to produce by the number, size, shape, type of things I assist in living in captivity. I do know, I am made happy by the plants in my home. I feel joy tending them.

I too feel obligated to them as I do my indoor pets. I took it upon myself to put these living things in a situation that required my attentiveness, dedication and consistent behaviour for them to survive.

I believe I consume more than I produce. Non the less, I feel good about helping. Someday I hope to feel as obliged to caring for myself as I do for the other living things in my home.

I owe it to the oxygen supply. I owe it to the creatures that will exist after me to leave them a breath of fresh air.