So. Done is the therapy session, yesterday.

I will write more about that another time. Too tired now. But it went okay and it was good to talk. And my therapist set me up for a meeting with their resident doc today. Which went fine as well. I am being switched to another brand of meds. In the hopes that it will help me with my depression. First I have to detox from the old meds. Gradually slow them down for about a week I think, and then start the new ones. So if I seem irritable or odd in the coming days then it’s the medication’s fault. Yes, yes. That’s my story and I’ll stick by it.

A more immediate help against depression are the new lambs. They are eversolovely. I’m slowly gaining their trust. Their mother hasn’t been at the playground before, you can clearly tell that she’s not used to being around people and she’s still adjusting. She’s very protective of her little ones. But it’s been a couple of days now and I have managed to get her to come over to me and I have been up close with the lambs without her complaining. I mostly just sit down close to them and let them get used to me being around. There is no rush and I don’t want to upset them. It’s a sweet feeling. It’s so much easier than with humans. With animals it’s a good thing that I am quiet and calm and all that. With humans you don’t get far without talking.

And it is giving me a positive outlook at the playground again. The first days after Springbok and 3B’s exit were tough. It made me sad to be there. It was so empty. The lambs are good for distracting me. Can they distract you guys a little too?

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They are so pretty. I dare say that they are probably the prettiest lambs I have seen yet. But then I feel that every time I see new lambs. I wonder if these will grow up to look silly as well?

I have said it already. He is gorgeous, the black one. His eyes are beautiful, that white spot on his forehead.. and his wool is soft and perfect. He is a wonder. His name is Kul. Or Kulle, I’m not sure if they have decided yet. “Kul” means coal. Charcoal. So can you guess what his sister is called?

She is called Kridt. Or Kridte. “Kridt” means chalk. Coal and chalk. And Kulle and Kridte are sort of cuter versions of coal and chalk. So that would be something like Coally and Chalky.

(I want to know what she is whispering in his ear on this one)

The mother doesn’t have a name, really. She is from Kurt’s farm. They call her 80. Because that is the number she has on her eartag. 80 is “firs” in Danish. The first time Kurt said it I thought he said “fia” which sounds about the same. So I suggested “Sofia”. Sofirs. Sofia. That’s what I call her. I really like her actually. She’s sweet. She was nervous at first. On the second day I sat down with her in her stall. Little by little she felt safer with me. I grabbed some of her food from her bucket and fed it to her by hand. It reminded me of how I got close to Mathilde. Feeding her and getting her used to the closeness.

Beautiful lambs. When I go to them then the goats baah after me. I think they are a little jealous. Especially Mads. But I make sure to spend time with everyone. There is enough of me to go round.

Mads has gotten sweet on my lemonade.

He loves it. I wasn’t sure if it was okay for him to drink it. I put a little in my hand and he licked it up and wanted more.

He doesn’t like the bottle. It’s a soft bottle, you can squeeze it together. And the sounds of that plus the sound of the air going in and out, Mads hates that. He backs off and twitches. Maybe he is afraid I’m going to spray him. He does the same when I fill water in his bucket. Backs off. Goats do not like rain or being sprayed with water. But despite those sounds he still comes back and laps up the lemonade.

I don’t give him much though, I’m not sure if lemonade is too good for a goat. But he’s been fine with the short dosages. Oh and even though it’s a Powerade bottle I am not giving him energy drinks. Can you imagine a goat hopped up on energy juice? It would be like a natural disaster, no one would be safe.

There were fallen hazelnuts at the anxiety clinic. I picked up a bunch for the goats. There are no nuts at the trees at the playground yet. So this was a nice little surprising treat for them. Vanilje has never had hazels before. She is a nibbler, she doesn’t normally take big bites or eat big things. But she seemed to like the nuts. I like the sound when they crack the nuts in their mouth. Crackling chewing. Last year I bought them packaged hazelnuts, without shells. And they liked them okay. But they prefer the ones I pick up from the ground. And that’s cheaper than buying them too. Last year I brought a plastic bag up to the bus stop, where there are some trees with hazelnuts. I filled the whole bag. A big shopping bag. Full of hazelnuts. I put it out in my back yard. And then every time I went up to the goats I’d bring them a handfull of nuts. Mathilde especially loved them. She’d go nuts, so to speak, when I brought them.

I am not sure how I’m feeling right now. Mixture of sad and happy. Good memories and losses. Still some sickness and tiredness. At least I didn’t use the sickness as an excuse to miss the therapy appointment again. I guess I should pat myself on the back for that. And I have been back at work. Even though I am still feeling weak and tired. I have a deadline on Friday. Must make that. Then weekend. And new meds. Maybe feel better. Then TMU. All my pasts and all my future.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 20th, 2006 at 22:23 and is filed under Blogging. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.