Thanks to the nature of Chris' work, we have famous and quasi-famous people dropping by the house from time to time. Thanks to the nature of my nature, I am often caught vacuuming off the dining room table, sporting prom eyes.
I need to learn where the mirrors are in this house. And use them.
In other news, the chickens are molting.
One of them is experiencing Severe Feather Loss. When she fluffs herself, it looks like an invisible predator is shaking the stuffing out of her. Is there a product on the market to help this? An "I'm not just the president, I'm a client" kind of product? Because if this goes on much longer, I'll be carting her to the salon for some feather extensions.
I have totally blown the chickens' salon budget for the month.
And now that I've described my morning mascara debacle AND chicken plummage, I suppose it's time to admit that we've applied for membership at the yacht club.
(pauses to admire puzzled looks)
Let's put this in perspective, shall we? Just last week, Chris was heard singing "Morning Has Broken" on the radio. It was truly awful. We are an embarrassment to society. And yet? We made it through the "if anyone objects, speak now or be forever miserable" phase.
I have no idea how this is going to go. There's an interview. There's maybe a secret handshake to learn. There are penny loafers to make Chris wear.
My question to you is, what does one wear to a yacht club interview? I thought I might get us some matching sweatshirts, with a three wolf moon motif. Except with chickens.