Monday, April 16, 2012

this turbo tax disc is one quarter terminator

I zip-tied some plastic poultry netting to the top of the chicken gate, and it seems to have performed the dual purpose of keeping the chickens contained while simultaneously making our yard look even more ridonkulous.  It would work even better if the children didn't go through the gate a million times a day and leave it open every time.  Kids!  Whaddya do? 

The animals are getting to be a bit too much for me.  I can't keep up with all the immunizing and trimming and petting and feeding and catching.  But could I really go back to being a person who eats store eggs?  Not bloody likely.  They taste like crap.  And there's no way I can go back to store milk, either.  I'm fully spooked about it.  So I guess I have to keep the goats to offset our winter milk purchases.  And the goats are the cutest ones anyway; aggravating as the day is long, but cute.  Martha (the brown rabbit) tried to scratch the tar out of my arms today, but lucky for her I had on long sleeves, and that is why she is not dead now.   

I did some goat training today, in which I bring them one by one up onto the milking stand and feed them grain while I pet them and trim their hooves.  "And how did it go, Layne?" you are probably asking.  "I remember how you were so diligent in training them last summer, so they are probably great, right?"  Well, let me put it this way: nopes.  They are not great.  In fact they are kind of sucky.  If you took all the tantrums I ever threw when my mom tried to cut my toenails, merged them into one great whole, and plugged the resulting Grand Mal Flidwobbler into Spinal Tap's amplifier, then you would get an idea of what it was like to trim Sally and Rita's hooves today.  What a joke.  I'll be surprised if they don't give their babies dain bramage, the way they were carrying on.  I think Sally made a horcrux.

I have forgiven the cat or cats who barfed on my bed, because it all washed out; no stain, no smell.  I will not destroy them.  Yet. 

I had to go to another PTA meeting today, a luncheon which I'm sure you realize I was very excited about, because if there's anything I love, it's eating with people I don't know and have nothing in common with, save our enslavement to the grindstone of public school.  It was okay, though.  I shared my empanada with Willa, and it was tasty.  I'm not above fried, fatty food, you know.  I like it the same as anybody else.  Maybe more.  But I don't want to hurt my ticker, so I try to only eat fried food when someone else cooks it.  It's the least I can do if I'm going to refuse to exercise. 


All8 said...

Last sentence, Exactly.

Sarah said...

So, Claire keeps saying "Why-er-ou-laughing?" But it's just hard to explain to a 2 year-old why "Sally made a horcrux" is killing me over here. (Not to mention the Grand Mal Flidwobbler and enslavement to public school...). Ah, thank for the laugh. Good luck with your bazillions of animals.