Monday, March 13, 2017

Rain, fog, more rain

Beautiful spring sunshine has turned into dreary spring rains, and the clock has jumped an hour ahead, which I find disturbing. I can't seem to keep up with the day.

The roosters were still safely confined in their new house, and mighty pissed about it. They spent the day pacing and grumbling out in the rain in their yard, the former lobster pot.

Em and Richard and baby Liam came up to visit, and the parents went after a load of wood while C. and I watched the little fellow. Well, the saw crapped out on them, but they did get nearly a full load. And we had fun with the little guy. He slept in my arms for a long time. They brought along Arnold, the greyhound-kangaroo mix, to play with Earl, and the boys had a great time.

We talked about their new house, and their plans to pull up carpets and refinish the hardwood floors, remodel the kitchen, and install a wonderland of swings and forts and sandboxes for Liam. The house inspection is scheduled for a week from today.

I sent the last of my giant bag of Nestle's chocolate chips home with them, since I'm trying to cut out sugar, as well as non-organic chocolate. I've since been scouring the web for appealing brownie recipes that use honey as a sweetener. I notice a disturbing trend to incorporate dates and/or applesauce – both incompatible with chocolate, IMHO. Or, perish the thought, beans. In brownies. WTH is that about?

Damn. I really liked that big bag of chips.

Bless their hearts, the kids hauled a bale of hay back from the barn for the rabbits.

Earl and I ventured into the fog to go to Deer Park for potting soil (it's nearly time to start 100 tomato plants!), grain for the animals, and a few groceries. We took the back way, where cloudy sky and treetops hovered above snowy fields and cotton-wool mist. All the houses and fences and tree bottoms were erased. Weird.

I bought Earl some white-cheddar crackers for being such a good boy in the car, and he showed his appreciation by sneaking into the console-compartment-thing between the seats, and scarfing what was left of an old bag of chocolate. He said he was sorry but I know he lies. It wasn't enough to make him sick, the great butthead.

Nine eggs today. Pretty good for eight hens, no?

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