Monday, June 6, 2016

It's not the heat – it's the stupidity

We're hunkered inside. It's 96 out there. I don't do heat well – heat being 80 degrees. 96 is just gross. Good thing we have six boxes of new-to-us books. And ceiling fans. We're running low on fudgesicles, though.

There's a chicken in the bathroom, the little teenage grey hen. I managed to slam the chicken house door on her beak yesterday, and she keeled right over into some kind of chicken coma. Today, her eyes are open sometimes, and she'll swallow water from an eyedropper and make a tiny chirrup, but she can't hold her head up yet. Curse me for a giant, clumsy moron.

Oh, Annie got into my chocolate again Saturday, and spent the night quivering and fussing, her eyes huge. I gave her charcoal and held her and rubbed her growling stomach. She got less than last time, so I knew she'd be OK, but curse me again for being a careless idiot. And her for being a greedy fool.

So between the heat and my idiocy, it's been a crap weekend. This is my first long weekend of the summer (I take Mondays off until school starts in September) so I have today to accomplish something positive. Or just sit quietly and cause no harm.

I've been working on the mess that is our shop, in the gym, not that you can tell. We've got counters overflowing with tools and screws and parts and crap. The floor, likewise. So I've been adding pegboard and hanging stuff and organizing a little and it's still a disaster, but I remain hopeful. Idiot.

Em came out yesterday with baby Liam. He laid on the couch for a long time, kicking and waving his arms and babbling. We think probiotics have made his tummy feel better so he's happier.

I'm headed back into the gym to tidy. We need some kind of storage system for short pieces of wood. And round things. And shiny things. And heavy things.

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