So apparently we have a family tailor now named Jafar. (You know, like the Disney villain Jafar? This is hilarious to me because I am immature.) Caleb has been taking his jackets and pants to him, and now, he’s taking my skirts.
So there’s that.
In other news, we have a new duck enclosure in progress and a chicken coop, a barn for sheep, a perimeter fence, and a possible pig pen all in the planning stages. We are poised to become full-blown hobby farmers by spring’s end; like imagine how when one of the Sesame Street muppets goes to visit the farm and that should give you an idea of how real it’s about to get around here. Pretty sure my Florida fam thinks I’ll be looking like this next time they see me:
Caleb and I will go out on our big date Friday night, providing no one in our family or our babysitting-friend’s family gets deathly ill before then, which is always a possibility. I threw in the towel on clothes shopping; I was so frustrated that Caleb finally picked an outfit for me, which is both sweet and scary all at the same time. This was just about my only contribution:
So when you see me hobbling around next week in a big black Velcro boot, don’t say anything. But for now, giant lake-like puddles everywhere. So, these:
We are also clearing out the front mutant weed-beds since multiple large coyotes (and one mountain lion) have been spotted up close to the house; I can’t even with all this nature. Is it too much to ask to live in the countryside without red mud, flies, and predators? All I wanted was a place to grow sunflowers and daisies and soft green grass and junk…perhaps build an adorable treehouse or two…throw a pristine white baseball to my dog who never comes back with ticks.
A friend of ours wants to know if we want their chickens for…you know…killing and devouring. I’m pretty sure I want them but now I’ve got to YouTube the crap out of “how to slaughter a bird”.
I’ll try anything once.
I thought about planting some morning glories around the chicken run so they can enjoy a little bit of beauty before they meet their timely and delicious end.
I’m nice like that.
Next week is spring break. The kids are all set to play ball and I’m all set to play taxi. Arbor’s got a custom playlist of jams on my phone to satisfy her musical needs while we drove all over kingdom come; Caleb is getting back into coach-mode.
Between animals and yardwork and church and ball and school and work and end-of-the-year programs and parties, please expect a hefty amount of flake-outs from my family; that way we may pleasantly surprise you with only a minimal number of unintentionally-skipped obligations.