We saw the wild turkeys yesterday! But alas, there were only three. And they were being chased (cruelly) by the neighborhood teenagers. I wanted to stop them. My husband stopped me, “They’re teenagers!” As if they were some mysterious alien force that might turn upon us.
“They’re being mean!” I wanted to yell at the kids, I wanted to tell them to leave the turkeys ALONE! To leave what I considered the grieving, remaining three turkeys, alone! (What had happened to the other two? It upset me to think about the possibilities).
My husband watched the scene closely–we had brought the car to a standstill, to gaze at the turkeys. The teenagers had moved away, walking toward their cars by the tennis courts. “EVERYONE is mean in high school.” (My husband, you see, was trying to chill me out–I have a colorful history of telling strangers off when I get self righteous and indignant).
“No, not everyone is mean.”
“Yes, everyone is mean–YOU were mean in high school. Everyone is mean in high school.”
Were we still talking about these teenagers and the turkeys, I wondered. “Not everyone is mean to a defenseless animal!” I responded. This was beyond psychopathic, I thought.
There were only three turkeys left. And we wondered if the mama turkey had somehow left the brood, or if she had been eaten by random homeless people in search of a Thanksgiving meal, or if an animal had gotten her, or if she’d been run over. The remaining turkeys seemed a bit lost, unfocused, wandering–more so than before, when they had been a tight little family.
It was sad. And now they were being treated with cruelty. I still want to yell at those teenagers.
I went to the spa yesterday. I am determined to erase my post MFA-thesis blues. Retail therapy helped. And then I got a massage yesterday morning. And played with my new pasta roller in the afternoon.
And yes, I am still sleepy. All the time. But I rest up when I can, and I’m taking care of myself as best I can.