This is going to sound silly, but it drives me crazy when things don’t go perfectly. But that’s just life, isn’t it? There’s always something going wrong, and I let it aggravate me about 90 percent of the time. Why can’t things just go right? “Well, Junior, have you read the story of Adam and Eve and the fall of man?” SHUT UP!
Here’s a long list of the things that have really been pissing me off lately. Fair warning, this is going to be a rant and complaining. If you don’t like it, too bad. It’s my blog. And you don’ve have to read it.
1. Mice. Holy infestation. They were everywhere, but I’ve been getting some vengeance lately. I mean, I’m a little embarrassed to put this on the internet, but I was sweeping up comical amounts of mouse shit. It drive me batty. They get everywhere. One managed to get itself up into the innards of the refrigerator(NOT where our food is, the mechanical parts that run it) and touch an exposed wired which promptly electrocuted it. For a couple weeks, yes, weeks, whenever the fridge would kick on and the exhaust fan would run, this terrible, nauseating putrid smell of rotting mouse would fill the kitchen.
Stop judging me. We didn’t know what it was or where it was coming from. Pryor burned this nasty smelling candle(I’m sure it was a fine smelling candle, but I associated it with that other smell) to try and hide the smell, so the kitchen smelled like a cocktail of dead animal and burnt cake icing. Blah. I can smell it just talking about it. We did a master cleanse of the house today and finally located it. I did the surgery on the fridge and took out the mouse and scrubbed where it had rotted, but it still stank, so I emptied a spray can of Febreze up in that mother AND put one of those old school slow release gel air fresheners in there. It still kind of stinks, or it does in my mind, at least. It haunts me.
I’ve been setting traps and relishing the thought of those tiny little spines getting cracked in half. It puts a smile on my face. AND! . . . Chief, my goofy, uber-lovey-dovey tom goes into complete wild animal mode when he gets a mouse. He’s a hunter! I love it. He played with one until it died of exhaustion the other night, and you better believe I let him.
Another trick I learned while I was on the AT is to put a couple inches of water in a bucket and then rub a little bit of peanut butter just above the water line and then build a nice little mouse ramp up to the edge of your bucket. They just can’t help themselves. They plop right down into that water and swim and try to climb all frantic and eventually drown. I love it. Although, karma had her way with me . . .
2. If you look back through this blog, you can logically deduce that I haven’t had the greatest history with chickens. Well, I got a couple more so we could have eggs, and they are just kind of nice to have around. I put them in the pasture with my sheep.
The way I water my sheep is I have an old iron tub I set under a well pump. All I have to do is go out there and lift up the handle and everybody can hydrate themselves silly. Wwwweeeellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll . . . apparently this isn’t the best way to water chickens. I went out there one morning and it genuinely looked like a crime scene. One of my chickens fell in the tub, and not being able to reach the bottom to push itself up and not having hands to pull itself out, it drowned. Bummer. I tipped the tub over and all the water came rushing out and the chicken ended up with it’s feet straight up in the air. It was poetic, all wet and dead and on it’s back. I took a picture and put it on Instagram and Facebook, and you know what, I didn’t get one “like”. Lighten up people. Its just a chicken. And it was a good photo, technically speaking. I was working outside today and saw my rooster up on the edge, getting a drink, even though I had given him and his gals a chicken specific watering can, and sure enough, that son of a bitch fell in. I jumped over the fence flung him out. I should have let him drown. He’s worthless. Doesn’t crow, doesn’t protect his hens worth a damn. He’s scared of our kittens for goodness sake. All he does is eat feed, which cost money. Damn rooster.
Back to the drowned hen. I carried her by one of her legs out into a field by our house so some vultures could come do the noble but dirty work. It took them a while. When I was driving up to the farm one day, there was a bald eagle on the ground about 10 feet away from it, asking itself “Am I really THAT hungry?” Once I pulled up, it promptly decided it wasn’t worth it, and lifted it’s ENORMOUS frame up and across the field.
So, yeah, the bald eagles are back. I hadn’t seen any since last winter. I love seeing the bald eagles. They’re as big as Roo . . . and they fly. Amazing.
See there, I’ve gone and whined enough to start looking on the bright side and put myself in a good mood. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for complaining, because sometimes, things just suck. And while I’m at it, don’t let anyone make you feel bad for getting mad when something isn’t going right. Sometimes, things just need to get cussed at hard enough in order to turn out how you want.
God Bless America. I’m glad the bald eagle is our bird, even though Republicans have claimed and completely misrepresented them. A bald eagle would never put a boot in Bin Laden’s ass. Never. Thanks for reading.