But I kid. But a great article on Gawker was like a nice tall glass of whatever refreshes.
It's been a nice short week - usually short weeks are, perversely, really looonnnng. But this one went by at a nice clip and we're already butt up against another summery weekend, in the 80s. I for one will not pull my shirt front out in two peaks and declare that I'm happy as a little girl! But it does give me good weather for 'chores', although for matters involving heavy lifting I will wait for more autumnal weather.
Last night I came out back and became aware that I was being followed around by two chickens, not three. I called Butters repeatedly, checked all the places I thought she might be and then began to panic. I thought maybe she'd flown up into one of the plum trees and gotten out, so I'm darting in and out of neighbors yards, hissing Butters! when all the while she was luxuriating in a dirt bath - actually, Butters prefers mud baths - in a deep hole back at the ranch. That's one of the aforementioned chores: to create a sheltered place where they can have a dirt bath when the rains come. Although, Butters will probably love all that mud.