Wednesday, May 14, 2014

I used to blog. And get pedicures. And I prided myself on a wicked clean kitchen floor. But, that was a long time ago. Life before we had baby goats living in the guest bathroom because the chicks/ducks/turkeys were taking up the Master. And before we milked cows and goats and counted poultry at dawn and dusk to be sure of their numbers. And there was that time I chased a coyote with a golf club. That was awesome. Thankfully we don't have neighbors or someone might have called the cops.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Uh, yes. There's a very pregnant woman running down the road screaming "BASTAGE!!!!!" at the top of her lungs and swinging a golf club."

In my defense, the bastage had my drake in his mouth. That's a male duck by the way, not some weird Urban Dictionary phrase you need to look up. In fact, please don't. I just probably don't even want to know.

But we live in the boonies, and I could yell profanities at predators all the live long day and no one is going to bat an eye. It's kind of awesome actually. If we had pesky neighbors they might be put off by the fact that we have encouraged our children to pee the perimeter of our property because it keeps the deer out. I may or may not have done my part in protecting my crepe myrtles. I'll never tell for sure, but I will have the most beautiful purple crepe myrtles lining my front drive. So help me!

So, yeah. I might not have written for a while. But this is still very much Crazytown.

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