Day Ninety Four

I am sick of mud.  Mud everywhere, inside, outside, on the floors, carpets, walls, dogs, family, beds, stairs, furniture, chickens, I'm seriously sick of it. 


The poor chickens haven't had a day without rain, torrential rain, thunder and lightening, rain since they went into their coop.  It's stinky and mucky and I'm sick of it for them.  Ok, it's pretty dry under the house portion, the part of their coop they run and hide under there and no one can reach them, I can't rake or clean it out, it's going to turn into a giant pile of chicken shit that'll stink to high heaven, NICE design plan. I still don't know what was wrong with a little shed, chickens in the bottom, shelf on top for food buckets and a run.  I know I keep harping on it but I just don't understand this version. They have to duck walking up the ramp to get inside, already, and then have to jump up 6inches or so to get inside.  They don't like to do the jump because it's dark, even with doors open and they can't see where they're going to land.  I just wanted easy.  


Anyway, I did put a tarp over the 'open' portion, it's only a couple of square feet to just enough for me to turn around in, but the ramp runs in the middle of where you're supposed to try to stand so the only way to be in there is to straddle it and i keep slipping in the mud trying to straddle it.  It's wet and mucky in there from the sides and run off from the copious amounts of water.  They are annoyed and are spending today perched on the edge of their coop looking down at the yuck.  I want to get them out of there but have no net to make a fence and don't want them to have the run of the yard when it's half under water and half slipNslide mud.  I can hardly keep a footing walking across the flat parts out there!  I just wanted them to be able to have some running around space that didn't require me to stand there the whole time.


I woke up with my eye swollen shut from a sty that's about making me ready to scratch my eye out of my head.


The Banker is screwing around, he's in "how little can I do to get credit for doing it" mode and I'm sick of it.  I threatened him the local scary, bad, low performing, thug, gangster, school district schools today.  I think my last nerve is beyond shredded and has been all week.  I'm still frantic and now I'm mad about it.


We are going to have a very silent and stoic rest of the day.  I am having Banker redo the work he's already done, to do more of it and more thoroughly.  I'm going to finish laundry and try not to explode at every little thing, then I am going to watch a Netflix documentary on bees because I like bees and I think it'll be interesting.  I may make Banker watch it with me later, if it's done his English.


Husband is on call all weekend, some new system is implementing at work which means he'll be a bear all weekend probably.  I plan on hiding to a certain extent.  We had to call friends and tell them we can't go away to Disney with them after all next month, money and time and schedules and dogs and chickens and all that just preclude is from happening this year.  I'm disappointed of course but at the same time, a trip like that almost feels like work.  Too much to do too many places to be and see and experience.  I think I'd like to find a quiet hotel or rental condo this summer and just get away for a few days where my only decision is what to have for breakfast, then go lay by on a beach or by a pool with my Nook until I want to nap then get ready and go eat something.  I want some silence, some freedom from decision making, some dog and chicken free time, I need to think about how to make that happen.


In the mean time, I've decided I'm staying in my jammies today.  I need potatoes but I don't want to go out with my wonky eye that's making me crazy and I would need to stop for gas and just don't have the energy.  I think it might be wine time anyway, luckily I don't have to change for that.  I'm watching the Banker write in his journal, then it's back to the academic grind. 


I think this counts as yet another day in a row I am not a happy camper and tomorrow is the weekend *dread* I hate weekends.

/Tracy