Bird Droppings February 25, 2026

Thinking for a minute about what to write and trying not to be political

Over the past few weeks, I have read several blogs and emails about counting sheep, and last night, I lay down to get some sleep after a long day and a long week of ankle issues, chest cold, and sinus issues; reading and writing, I was a whooped puppy. Long about ten o’clock last night, which is way past the time for me to zone out, I was watching American Idol, no, I did not watch the SOTU address. Of course, just as I fell asleep, it hit me how much we miss our grandbabies. Just as I thought of this, we got a few photos and a couple of videos on the phone. I almost felt like there was no need to go back to sleep since I get up at four in the morning during the workweek anyhow to get Pat off to work. Then it hit me; it was still nighttime. I crashed again.

When I got to my computer and started in, I sat here for a second, thinking about how each of us builds our routine around who and what we are at the moment. Thinking back to my sons and how they would come home from college and take a three-hour nap, play some video games, eat voracious quantities of food, and then chill. It has changed now that they are married, have babies, and work full-time, one in pediatric cardiac intensive care and one in environmental engineering. The oldest is an advanced science teacher. After I finally got up, I went to fix Pat’s lunch, gathered my camera, filled up the car, and headed out to catch a sunrise.

I went outside only to find it slightly warmer than the last couple of mornings, which were below freezing. We had a moon last night, but I missed it in the clouds. I thought back to my earlier trying to go back to sleep, and when my son’s photos woke me up, I lay there making up blog lines, each more whimsical than the last. Unfortunately, thinking doesn’t put you to sleep, and it dawned on me why counting sheep would. For most people, a sheep is a sheep. They all look, sound, and act the same. If I counted sheep depending on my mood and looked for show lambs, breeding sheep, or sheep to work with herding dogs, they would be different. The muscle mass or breed characteristics, what breed I am counting, and the history of that breed, counting sheep would never work for me after many years of raising and showing sheep and lambs.

My oldest son and I had Southdown sheep for years, including an Oklahoma Black and White show champion ram. Southdowns go back a few hundred years in England, famous for their meaty carcasses and small size. I do not count sheep because I might start on Jacob’s four horns, which do not act like those of other breeds. They scatter when a predator arrives, each ewe taking their lambs and running in different directions. This is a little different twist on the herding instinct. Perhaps I overthink, pondering each aspect, then going deeper, never getting bored enough to fall asleep, and usually becoming more awake. So many years ago, I found that if I think of a relaxing spot, calm and peaceful, within seconds, I am asleep, not from boredom but relaxation.

“Within your heart, keep one still, secret spot where dreams may grow.”Louise Driscoll

So often, we lose sight of dreams of quiet times and get caught up in the issues of the day. A few months ago, I overheard several students complaining about panic attacks, anxiety attacks, and stress issues. How can it be that fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen-year-olds have stress-related problems? It boggles my mind to see such young people caught in adult situations, such as leaving home, being pregnant, and trying to make adult-related choices as a child, and not being allowed to play with Lego at school. I reintroduced Lego to my classroom. Lego maniacs rule; it is an excellent eye-hand and imagination builder.  

“Life is like a ten-speed bike. Most of us have gears we never use.” Charles M. Schulz

How do we tap into those extra gears and show kids there is more to life and so much more than what is at home or around the next corner? Over the past few days, I have wondered why and how we do what we do to kids.

“Have compassion for your parents’ childhoods. Know that you chose them because they were perfect for what you had to learn. Forgive them and set them free.”Louise L. Hay

As children complain about their parents, it is only what their parents have learned and had to work with that determines how they deal with their children. Some have had influential mentors and successful family experiences; others have had trials and tribulations and no families or parental support. We, as teachers, often become surrogate parents, filling the voids left by absent parents and guardians.

“We have contributed, each in the time allotted us, our endeavors to render… a permanent blessing to our country.”Thomas Jefferson, 1743-1826, Third American President

I wonder how we will be perceived as a nation as days go by.  Will it be as savior or warmonger, freedom provider or imperialist? I have so many questions. I read a note earlier from another teacher who is currently caught up in immigration issues, as are many people. People come to work to have a chance at life, and here we are, the most powerful nation in the world, trying to decide what to do with them. I hear “they” are getting benefits and not paying. I can understand this. Yet businesses all over the nation are using “their” labor and not paying taxes on it or workers’ compensation for it. Yet we target the people who want to work, not the people who employ them. Why not tax and take out workers’ comp, and/or provide some semblance of temporary documentation?

I started a conversation several days ago about how much you want to pay for chicken, which is often produced and processed by illegal labor. Chicken is now four dollars a pound, on the high side, eight or so dollars a pound for free-range organic. How about seven or eight dollars a pound? We can unionize chicken processing and such, how about vegetable pickers, landscaping, and construction workers? How much more for a head of lettuce are we willing to pay, or for a house? I find it amusing that commodities based on often illegal labor somehow maintain their prices if strict immigration laws are promoted. Yet gasoline, at maximum production and export levels, fluctuates based on speculation.  I am not condoning illegal immigration, but where should we focus: people wanting jobs or industries willing to hire them illegally? To me, this seems a paradox.  Please keep all in harm’s way on your mind and in your hearts, and always give thanks. Namaste.

My family and friends, I do not say this lightly,
Mitakuye Oyasin
(We are all related)
docbird