My neighbors probably think I'm abandoning my family and surreptitiously moving out.
I keep going to my car with bags of stuff. Which I take somewhere. Lots and lots of bags of stuff.
So if they were watching carefully - the way, for instance, I watch them - they would also surmise that I was taking my family, the dogs, the cat, the chickens and the inlaws with me. It's that much stuff.
Actually, I'm still just taking things to Goodwill (or Salvation Army, or those Planet Aid boxes, I am not picky). What amazes me is that not only is my house not collapsing in on itself due to the vacuum I am surely creating, it's darn hard to tell that anything's gone. Where oh where oh where did we have all this STUFF?
It must be the chickens and all their accompanying hoopla.
They have had a big day today. This morning my friend Audrey dropped off an enormous box - big enough for all 5 chickens to scurry around and not knock over their water tower. On the side of the box is a large note that says "Cake is under this box. DO NOT TOUCH."
Which begs the question(s):
1) Good heavens, how big was that cake?
2) Why would anyone heed a note like that?
3) Does anyone out there need a refrigerator box?
Because now I have an extra. No, I'm not carrying it back.
This box is infinitely better. It has the shipping labels on it to show us which way is up. And it's much larger than their last cardboard box.
My chickens are living in a double wide.
We managed to get them transfered without any escapees - although they tried. They are squirmy and squalky and not quite as cute as they once were. Yes, they are teenagers.
As lovely as their new home is, I am anxious to get them outside. I have visions of them free-ranging it in the late afternoon - eating all our bugs and inspiring local painters to set up their easels across the street.
Just think, you're driving along and suddenly something black with silver speckles emerges from the daylilies. Seriously, after what we've been through they better at least contribute some aesthetics to our yard.
Speaking of aesthetics, I hung our hammock today. It's pretty much rotted to threads, but you can't tell from a distance and it really makes the yard look heavenly.
It's so important not to look at things closely.