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The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor

April

The Architect

Clay

Yer Daily Dose of Feel Good

If you came here today to feel better about your dumb self, you, my friend,  are in the right spot.  For I am an THE Idiot Extraordinaire.

This week I hung a load of bed linens and blankets and towels out on the line and then my ‘Thinkin’ Ahead’ button got pushed and I said, “Why not start burning some brush?”  Do you know where the burn pile is?  Yep, right next to my clothes line.  Do you know which way the wind was blowing?  Yep, towards the clothes line.  
But I figured it didn’t matter  with the fresh air blowing  and I had the kids fold the dry laundry and put it away.  Now I keep smelling smoke in the house and having little panic attacks that the kids are torching each other.  I took a shower and the fresh towel I got out smelled like….you guessed it, smoke.  It was the last towel so I had to use it. 
And then there’s this thing.

It’s my prepubescent squash plant.  He’s saving himself for just the right gal.  He’s grown so big and so strong and so handsome but has produced zero offspring.  And like any good mother I am so proud of him that I continue to let him get bigger and stronger.  But what I really want to say to him is, “Please find a female and have some fun.  Babies are good.  I want to eat your babies.  Please go out in the world and spread your seed!”

I’m on the brink of cutting the apron strings here.  By that I mean yank the zero sexed guy straight out of the garden and toss him to the pigs.
And of course there’s the rooster.  Clay named him Deacon.  He got the crud beat out of him by the other rooster so now we are letting him roam free…..and wak us up at ungodly hours in the morning.
There’s something about having a rooster running around the place that makes me feel official.
And despite his annoying crow, I feel sorry for the guy.  Because, I’m a chicken doctor and I learned early in my training to love all my chickens no matter how much they irritate me.  
That’s it for now from Idiotville.  Stay tuned and I might tell you about the time I answered the door straight out of the shower wearing my husband’s robe with a hole in the absolute worst place. 
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