Monday, March 21, 2011

the dirty bum bum bum bum bum

Good morning, possums! We had a weekend of extreme cleaning, and there are many, many surfaces in our house that are beautifully clear. I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but my parents did come over to visit on both Saturday and Sunday night--do you think they are trying to send us the message that People Like Clean Houses?

I guess since I've woken up in a pool of my own sweat for the last week it's time to change to summer weight bedding. Martha would agree, I'm sure. Oh, I love to take the mick out of Martha, but you guys know I love her. I love competence and proficiency. It makes me cry.

When I was cleaning the fish tank on Saturday I found one of Ike's frogs in the early stages of decay, stuck to the top of the ceramic shark's mouth.

I've had the chickens out for the past few days, only occasionally remembering to shut the coop at night (hopefully no skunks or raccoons are reading this), and they have only left one poop on the patio, which is a big improvement. We used to feed the cats outside, and last summer whenever we let the chickens out they spent their time almost exclusively on the patio, eating the cat food and pooping on all of our stuff. On our precious clutter and garbage! It makes John so angry. He doesn't really enjoy farming at all, and I think that living here would slowly devour his soul if he didn't have a job in the pulsing center of Salt Lake. When our kids grow up and we don't have to simulate Colonial House to teach them a good work ethic I bet John will say, "Okay, now it's MY turn to live my dream," and we'll move to a loft apartment in Seattle or something with no yard to speak of, and we'll spend our days discussing macroeconomics and listening to experimental jazz, and we'll never smell like Bag Balm again. But it's silly of me to say that, because of course by then we'll be living in the police state of Oceania.

I am considering a blog series wherein I elaborate re: blood feuds, and then you can all hopefully be converted to my way of thinking.


Melissa Cunningham said...

Once again, I'm laughing out loud.

You and Bryan should have married instead, and led your lives of leisure on the farm, but that would soon become boring as it's opposites that attract. Thank heavens for that, as long as we meet in the middle. Or at least a little to my side.

Tori said...

She must be pretty competent. She's only allowing two days to plan her April Fool's prank! Although I must say waiting until March 24th to meet with an accountant for your taxes seems like pretty fast and loose advice from someone who went to jail for her financials.