I’m suffering from holiday confusion. What was a Tuesday felt like a Monday. Tuesday morning actually felt worse than a Monday. It felt like one of those Sunday mornings from my 20s. I’d grade that day a “D”. From Drunk to Deflated, Drained and Dragging. It was really deserving of an “F”, but I’d better not start up with that.
I think I had a conversation with someone and they gave me an idea for a post. It was brilliant, really. I do wish I could remember. As Pucket said (with her sweet-as-sugar accent) “that girl… she’s just not right”.
I even forgot the Tuesday trip to the farm. Those cows make all that nice fresh milk and I forgot all about them. Fortunately, Mrs Kathy had her wits about her. She bottles the stuff and refrigerates it right away. By the time I got through with all the Wednesday things, my girls were around and they came to say Hey to the cows. That’s the cows saying “Hey” back.
When the girls come to visit the cows come running. Literally. The girls bring bovine junk food: white bread. They just love that stuff.
But once it a while…in moderation…I guess it’s pathetic to try to justify this.
It’s funny, but my “day off” started at 5am. It’s been nonstop ever since. I’m forever trying to fit 10 lbs of shxt into a 5 lb bag. Going to the farm for milk takes another hour out of my day. It’s so worth it, though. Not only do the kids have fresh milk, but somehow going out there to visit the cow-girls takes all the stress out of the day. I may just make it through the rest of the week after all. Thank you sweet cow face!