I'm not sure why.
Perhaps its because there is nothing dramatically bad happening to me but lots of things that feel like hard work. Those of you who have followed on Facebook know that I had a bad day on Tuesday. It started a bit too early (in the 5 instead of 6am) and careened off track when the basement flooded due to the door of the front loader washing machine being a bit open and pouring water out undetected for a very long time. Its been 5 days and the carpet is still smelling like a wet dog. That evening I received the news that I was not considered qualified for a position in grant-writing for a local non-profit. It was one of a few volunteer positions they had open for grant-writing and as I have some experience in the area and was doing a class in nonprofits I thought I would be a good match. I am not upset with them - I understand an organization wanting the most skilled people as their volunteers - but it was discouraging to feel I cannot even volunteer my services, let alone get paid for them.>
Lets see, I heard some bad news yesterday about a friend's family: news which is haunting me and instead of just saying how having a boring life is just fabulously lucky I am obsessed with the fact that our chickens poop on the deck [a lot] and Wren steps in it [a lot]. Recently recently they had ghastly liquid poops which they conspired to leave on the doormat so I feel we are cooped up indoors [pun intended] while the chickens run wild with their gastro-intestinal issues. There are only so many poops you can wipe up with those super absorbent paper towels before you just want to disinfect the whole deck and then you think, "gosh, its going to rain anyway" but it rains and the poop stays through the rain and just spreads out and goes sloppy so ....
We are remodeling the bathroom and demolition/construction should start this week. Enough said about the choices involved - everything from tiles to tubs to faucets has to be talked about. Joshua and I do not like to talk a lot... about details.
And finally we decided to do a Nice Family Thing and pick our own pumpkins on Saturday. That would be a good blog post photo op? Right? When we got there it was the scene that puts any suburban minivan driver in dread - foot deep mud and respectable SUVs spinning their wheels and churning mud everywhere in a splendid display of what happens to fertile flooded fields when they are used as car parks.
Joshua came to the farm and was wearing Crocs. Frost was also wearing Crocs. For those not familiar with them they are rubber clogs with holes in which Seattlites wear with socks (sometimes). The socks got muddy. They didn't like it. They pulled faces and wanted to leave.
Wren was very worried about the mud and felt anxious that our car would be stuck in the mud. I spent a few quarters on animal feed to feed the farm goats and chickens but the animals wouldn't eat the feed so I ended up throwing it away and the animals and chickens ate kettle corn instead. Everyone was happy when we beat a retreat and took some pictures and decided to buy our pumpkins at Safeway where they can be cleanly loaded into the trunk.