(no subject)
I don't know why the cat feels she should wake me up every few seconds, but it's getting real annoying.
Today's the last Farmer's Market of the year. If I rush from work real fast I should be able to make the last few minutes of it. My forearms are still sore from mucking all the barn out, which I didn't notice till I got to work. My abs are a bit tender too, and I still have bruises and marks on my legs from using them to lever up the really packed down stuff.
I want to go back on my next day off and work on the big pasture shelter, which somehow stays warmer than the barn, and patch the holes in that for winter, and see about fixing some of the broken boards and windows in the barn as well, but I know Dad will not be welcoming any more company for a long while. He has to finish the roof still, which I offered to help with, as long as it was on the low parts, but it just won't stop raining, and as long as there is some sort of ball sport on tv, he'll just sit on his ass while the house falls down around everyone's ears.
My store, known for being heartless bastards about illness, actually is getting somewhat worried about "The Oink". I feel like I came back to work in some strange alternate reality.
I am torn now between sleep and a shower since the cat finally got me out of bed. I haven't had a shower since I got home, and it would be so nice to have one where the water stays warm for more than the first two minutes, and the water only trickles out shortly after that.
(And also not having to sleep in a room where something furry croaked in the wall and has gone bad is also very nice-YUCK.)
Miriel has learned to turn on the bathroom faucet in the last week, but not how to shut it off. Okay, I'm going back to bed. I'm too sleepy to stay awake for a shower, plus it's really cold for that in here. I was stuck in a house that felt like a steam bath for days, so I enjoy having it nice and cool 90% of the time.
"Your Dad hates it if he comes home and the house is cold."
"But he doesn't get home for another seven and a half hours!"
"I'm not letting the fire go out so I have to spend tons of money on firestarters and kindling all the time. You can just shut up about it."
"Gaaaaah, it's 65 degrees out, and 90 in here, and all the windows are so steamed up you can't see out."
"If you have a problem you can just go home. I'm tired of listening to you talk anyway. I don't know why you just can't be quiet."
"Fine." *tries to leave* *everyone comes out and sits on her car so she can't* "Why the heck did you have to block me in?
*goes out and stands in hayfield in the rain instead until scary large things stalking her in the woods (coyotes?) make her go back*
(In some ways, I'm glad to be back.)
Today's the last Farmer's Market of the year. If I rush from work real fast I should be able to make the last few minutes of it. My forearms are still sore from mucking all the barn out, which I didn't notice till I got to work. My abs are a bit tender too, and I still have bruises and marks on my legs from using them to lever up the really packed down stuff.
I want to go back on my next day off and work on the big pasture shelter, which somehow stays warmer than the barn, and patch the holes in that for winter, and see about fixing some of the broken boards and windows in the barn as well, but I know Dad will not be welcoming any more company for a long while. He has to finish the roof still, which I offered to help with, as long as it was on the low parts, but it just won't stop raining, and as long as there is some sort of ball sport on tv, he'll just sit on his ass while the house falls down around everyone's ears.
My store, known for being heartless bastards about illness, actually is getting somewhat worried about "The Oink". I feel like I came back to work in some strange alternate reality.
I am torn now between sleep and a shower since the cat finally got me out of bed. I haven't had a shower since I got home, and it would be so nice to have one where the water stays warm for more than the first two minutes, and the water only trickles out shortly after that.
(And also not having to sleep in a room where something furry croaked in the wall and has gone bad is also very nice-YUCK.)
Miriel has learned to turn on the bathroom faucet in the last week, but not how to shut it off. Okay, I'm going back to bed. I'm too sleepy to stay awake for a shower, plus it's really cold for that in here. I was stuck in a house that felt like a steam bath for days, so I enjoy having it nice and cool 90% of the time.
"Your Dad hates it if he comes home and the house is cold."
"But he doesn't get home for another seven and a half hours!"
"I'm not letting the fire go out so I have to spend tons of money on firestarters and kindling all the time. You can just shut up about it."
"Gaaaaah, it's 65 degrees out, and 90 in here, and all the windows are so steamed up you can't see out."
"If you have a problem you can just go home. I'm tired of listening to you talk anyway. I don't know why you just can't be quiet."
"Fine." *tries to leave* *everyone comes out and sits on her car so she can't* "Why the heck did you have to block me in?
*goes out and stands in hayfield in the rain instead until scary large things stalking her in the woods (coyotes?) make her go back*
(In some ways, I'm glad to be back.)