Eggs is eggs

Going to the veterinarian for a rabies shot, Princess Snowbelle was miserable all the way there and back. After the trip, I held the carrier up so she could see the grasshoppers boinging from leaf to stem in the scrappy little field where the wild cats live. She did calm down a bit watching the bug carnival. I snapped her a head of catnip and mooshed it against the screen, which she also took some interest in.

Thrifty tip: You can find catnip growing in almost any Eastern dry, undernourished soil, you really don't have to purchase it in the stores. I have found it along railroad tracks, bike trails, and in abundance under the raised thruway bridge next to the apartment buildings. It's a biennial, so that means it grows lush in the spring, goes to seed about now, dies down and repeats again ensuring a good fall crop. Belongs to the mint family, and makes a great flavored jelly. I should really do that again, it's good in tea. Supposed to have a calming effect on humans, however, personal experimentation points to not enough.

Hmm. Catnip mints for people. I bet there's a market for it. I'd buy a pack. Note to self: catnip lotion or soap Not a Good Idea, the neighborhood cats would be spreading rumors that you're easy.

Anyway, my veterinarian, Dr. P, has taken good care of my animals for many many years. She never ages and is a popular, delightful beauty in the community. She is as close to religion as I get these days, for her outlook is deliberate, thought out and put into effect.

This is it, see what you think: thoughts are tangible things that we create and take on a life of their own. One uses this to construct positive outcomes based on trust and spiritual guidance; she firmly believes this tenet is a factor in the success rate of her practice. Everyone thinks positively, and therefore an otherworldly beneficent force surrounds them and the animals she cares for. She claims this works for parking spaces also, to the provenance that her scientific, fact-based agnostic husband asks her to "do that parking space thing that you do" when needed.

Dr. P also owns a cottage in Lilydale, NY, one of the vortexes for contacting the spirit world down by Lake Chautauqua. Her neighbor is a Russian immigrant from Israel who organically raises chickens and sells the eggs, which are available at the veterinary at $3.25 a dozen. I have given dozens away as gifts, a new shipment is coming in next Thursday, if you're local, let me know if you're interested.

These eggs are raised by someone who talks to her chickens as they run free eating summer insects and dandelion blossoms. Raised by someone who is part of the Lilydale community of mediums and psychics, and therefore are eggs of the cosmos, eggs of stardust, eggs watched over by a thousand seraphim, manifest apparitions, and the souls of generations of chicken guardian angels, former farmwives who had coops. These are celestial eggs.

They come in all sizes in the carton, shades of rust brown, and take a good crack to open. When you spill the orange yolk into the buttered frypan, it stands up and roars, girdled by thick whites. Eggs like this are strong willed and fierce, and deserve a crisp corner of toast for dunking. I like mine once over easy, to make sure the gook gets fairly solidified. Salt and pepper.

Cakes rise, omelets ascend, cookies fortify, boiled eggs are unctuous and hearty due to their upbringing and residence at the Positive Thought Veterinary. I shall give this a try, usually I take things as they come, figuring events are life-building experiences that everyone has a swing at. Truth be told, however, if I could scoot out from under some circumstances, that would be gravy. Oh, by the way, don't believe that idiom "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." The hell it doesn't. Too much will beat you down and put you through the machinations of despair.

So, the consensus here is....? We can use the assistance of a spiritual thought process to create positive outcomes, or that we are dealing purely with reality and the cards fall where they may, or, do we just want paranormal eggs for breakfast?

You get your jammies on and do some reading before bed tonight. Think of those happy chickens roosting for the evening in their nests of straw, unseen hands blessing their productivity. Snowbell has sacked out already, exhausted by the trip. I am ready for a late supper and will not turn in until she is dreaming of squirrels and sparrows. You might dream of sparrows, too. Little brown bundles of feathers, tucking heads under wings, breathing in, breathing out. Sleep well.