It's Raining Its Pouring

Zac's in the bedroom crying...

Let us begin with a sigh... Today's rain was most depressing in that I spent the bulk of the week prepping the basement/getting materials for today- and in the short of it- D. and I got very little done as a result of the poor weather. Before I discount our attempts- I will completely acknowledge that plucking chickens in the rain is far easier, and far more pleasant- yes gutting chickens mind you- than doing any sort of carpentry in the rain.

So, before I make this pleasant page a mire of displeasure- Let me thank D. for spending a Saturday with me in the rain. We are both busy enough to fully appreciate the pleasures of a day we should have taken off. Anyways, he kept cheery which helped me out. I have been on a long haul with the basement/other work- and this week was especially difficult to finish setting blocks and to get ready for today. I sped out of work in my one ton on Wednesday night to HD to pick up a few tools I did not have/PT lumber. Well the website said they closed at 10pm, but they actually close at 9pm. My plan was to work in the morning, and use the nighttime to run an errand. I suppose that was an error in many ways.

So tonight I wanted to briefly post, and enjoy the rest of the evening with a book, and hopefully wake tomorrow with that cheery Sunday mood. Eh? Maybe I'll set the alarm clock for 6:20-and just run out in my pajama's to milk the cows. Hell, maybe I'll just run out in my birthday suit. Oughta surprise any early morning milk customers, but otherwise I don't think the cows will mind.

Post-Post

I did not know Normandy was a name of a cow. Cow, your name is specially, and you are dotted, and spotted. However, can you tell me. Are you more spotted than dotted or are your feelings allotted moreso dotted? I would say so splotted but unlike a shorthorn your white and- well if I may pause before calling your coat white- you are not really so white- I shall say you are pretty- though I have not met you maybe witty, which if you are my dearest maiden will you kindly allow me to say you are a dearest sweet to me. I truly must pause at this time because Jameson and I are due to be met, and I am taking time to publicly announce an Ode to a Normandy Cow- and I fear the Jerseys in the barn will hear of this flirtatious talk, and oh dear, they shall milk dry.