Reason For Silence

 See that lump on my right side of my throat and the right side of the picture since this is taken in the mirror. Yup, that's Thyroditis which has been whipping my butt and the reason for the silence this week. No,  to all you nurses reading this, I do not have Hashimotos. I just once in a great while get Thyroditis anyway with all the aches, exhaustion, sensitivity to heat and cold etc. It grinds the work down to a slow turtle pace.

I've tried my best to keep going cleaning livestock pens but when in my brain cloud, due to a porely functioning thyroid, I tapped the shed with the tractor bucket, I decided I'd better quit before I caused real damage. So while I wait for the cloud to dissipate, I'll try and get some photos done to tell you about my trip to Casper with the munchkins and that fence pulling gadget. Plus I have a batch of cherry tomatoes drying in the dehydrator to make canned sundried tomatoes in basil and olive oil.

But I do have a couple words of wisdom my hubby picked up this month.
"Following the path of least resistance creates crooked men and crooked rivers."

"It is not a man's abilities but his choices that determines who he truly is." This has given us food for deep thought and self evaluation.

How about today you enlightening me while I run off to have an ultrasound on my thyroid and grab some more straps for hauling hay tomorrow. Tis the season to gather in the stores and prepare for winter so I can't grind to a complete halt. 

I have a question for you though. It keeps coming up unanswered as I stare down at my ripped jeans that now smell to high heavens of manure for I wore them two days in a row shoveling the stuff.

Why do people buy worn out jeans that have had acid and manufactured wear beat into them when a little hard work will create them naturally?  Okay, maybe I've answered my own question in part. Play, not work is coveted by many these days but they miss out on the rewards that comes after a great effort. The satisfaction and discovery about yourself that reaches down to our core  - that place play never quite finds.

So what triggers the want to buy partially worn out jeans? Why pay big bucks for pants that have a dramatically shortened wear life? Is it because money doesn't come easy that I have this attitude? Or is there something I'm missing out of emotionally from buying worn out? Age has personality but it also has quirks. Those holes in the jeans I've found is a good place for mosquitoes to bite and cold winds to nip. Am I just too practical? Convince me both sides of this question, to buy worn out or bran spanking new? 

S