48 Hours

Captain’s log, this 27th day of April, year two-thousand and fifteen: the second successful night at the new house is in the books. It is nothing short of glorious to wake up to the sun rising over green pastures as far as the eye can see. Everyone is feeling more at home and sleeping soundly in their own rooms, including Arbor. Today the kids woke up at a 7:15, farted around for a while, and STILL made it to school (which is about 1.25 miles straight down our gravel road) on time.

The dogs are LIVING THE DREAM. Yesterday Noah straight disappeared on us for a solid two hours, finally dragging his exhausted self into the front porch from God-only-knows-where, and then I pulled ticks off him while he lay pretty much unmoving and traumatized and probably digesting an entire wild rabbit.

TICKS.

They’re turning up everywhere. Spraying our house and immediate yard is on the top of our list, preferably by some kind of crop duster. It’s that bad.

Also on our list is finishing a duck run–cause garage-crated duck is not ideal. Hopefully we will bring them here this evening, coated in a thick film of their own poo, and with an unquenchable hunger for bugs, namely ticks.

Apparently this is country living.

Also: we are getting a rat terrier puppy, like today. Because impeccable timing is for losers. And I want a rat-catcher who is also adorable. A friend of mine needed to find a home for her, and I’m a sucker, and, well, the rest is history: seriously, mark this moment in time as “the beginning of Toni’s tragic downward spiral into actual insanity”.

That’s happening. But look at this face:

  

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About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

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