We decided to hire out our sheet-rocking so that we could enjoy the last few days of my Mister's vacation.
While I was dreaming of canoes, mountaintops and trout, my Mister was dreaming of checking off another project from the list.
The mountains are overrated anyway.
They have mosquitos.
Bailey didn't get the memo that this was a work day.
She has the excuse of maternity leave.
Here are the reasons for our latest project.
I think they used to be our turkeys.
They look more like roadrunners.
There's not enough room for the turkeys and their legs in the coop.
Seriously, why couldn't I have been born with legs like that?
I got the condensed version.
This is the project we've begun. The turkey yard.
It will protect our flock from the likes of Wile E. Coyote and the ACME company.
They keep trying to crash the party.
I've found that my Mister is a thinkin' man.
He can think, and think, and think for hours.
Eventually I have to kick him to make him stop.
So we can actually begin the project.
My job was to paint the ends of the posts.
It didn't require thinking.
Thank goodness. That is not my gift.
Now we're at a standstill again.
My Mister has some more ponderin' to do.
In case you didn't know, that's half of farming.
We're still on baby goat watch.
Gertie isn't the wimp that Bailey is. She refuses to take maternity leave.
Although she really should.
She's starting to waddle.
She's had a few cravings lately. Today it was for plantain.
I was kind of hoping that she would get a hankerin' for some briar's, but no such luck.
Plantain doesn't really agree with her.
"Did I do that?"
I was a little embarrassed for her.
So now we wait...
...for calves, kids and cement to dry.
And maybe some more thinking.
Not necessarily in that order.