Do you ever feel strong, only to find out you’re weak? I sure do.

Today we face troubles with our chickens. A raccoon is eating one per day, starting yesterday. Soon we will have none.


Me? In your garbage? No!
Me? In your garbage? No! (Photo credit: jronaldlee)

We’ve set a trap where the coon can get in it but the cats cannot. It is smart though, ate the bait, and got out again.

We believe people should protect their penned or cooped animals, since they are at our mercy. What else can they do but die at the hands of this marauder? Sadness creeps in as we think of their terror and understand, now, their reluctance to trust.

Anyway, it falls on the one who is at home to check on the critters hourly, during the day. It’s almost time for the next check. Even if the trap should work, I will have to operate our small rifle because coons don’t die that easily and it would be wrong to make it suffer. Not even tempting.

Although I boasted of knowing how to aim and shoot, I forgot I don’t remember something: which way is off, for the safety button. So is the rifle sitting by the back door, loaded and ready to shoot, or is there one more step to prevent that disappointing “click” that means I forgot something? And will it hurt my shoulder, which has been acting up, lately? And will the creature be in the trap, or warily roaming around the coop? And will I miss? And if I miss, will I hit something else important, like a chicken? And how do I arrive at the chicken coop without our ever-curious cats following?

I was so ready, willing, and able. Now I’ve talked myself into being a wimp. Earlier, I even dreaded and second-guessed the idea of having fresh, organic eggs, at all.

It all reminds me of my curtains. The cost of one panel would buy fabric for the whole house. The test is in making them. Will I finish them?

It reminds me of the ironing. You’d never guess how many starched shirts wait for me to finish that ambitious project. But am I saving money!

It reminds me of refinishing the basement.

It reminds me of redecorating the guest house.

It reminds me of unpacking the last few boxes from moving.

It reminds me of weeding the flower beds.

It reminds me of me.

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Published by Katharine

Katharine is a writer, speaker, women's counselor, and professional mom. Happily married over 50 years to the same gorgeous guy. She loves cooking amazing homegrown food, celebrating grandbabies, her golden-egg-laying hennies, and watching old movies with popcorn. Her writing appears at Medium, Arkansas Women Bloggers, Contently, The Testimony Train, Taste Arkansas, Only in Arkansas, and in several professional magazines and one anthology.

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