Oh what the hell?

Blogs called this week on account of haying. I spent most of Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday on a tractor. Then Friday was blow-off-some-steam-farm-girl-been-in-the-field-all-week day. And Wednesday? That was write like a son of a bitch day. So yeah, canned yesterday around my hangover. At least I’m productive when I feel like shit. Lesson supposedly learned: three rums and I’m out. Unfortunately, at that point, after some beer, I have no memory of lessons past. Good thing my honey is understanding.

So Dad got hay in the barn today before the downpour we got. And he rolled up my cars windows. Such a sweetie. I’m glad he did the last of the stacking. It was getting beyond my poor skills. Of course, so is canning salsa apparently. What I did yesterday looks like water got in or something. Freaking icky regardless. Oh well. First kicks at the damn cat in the canning department.

Got a busy Sunday. Dad and I just stuffed ourselves with my yummy pancakes and homemade syrup. (Better than sex, I’m not even sorry.) He and I both have bills to pay, laundry, dish debris from yesterday’s canning frenzy, cleaning out a closet for Jenny when she comes, setting up the new dog pen/rooster coop, and anything else we get into. The roosters harass the hens so badly they’ve finally pissed Dad off. One hen was bleeding from the side of her head where a rooster bit her and the roosters keep the hens on the roost all day and so harassed they can’t eat, drink, or lay. So either heads are coming off or the roosters are going in the new pen until we can deal with them. The scariest part: we’ve got another sixty or so roosters up and coming. Ye gods the chaos when they grow a pair.