Today was a day for staying around home for me. I had to get some of the things off my mental "to do" list before I drove myself crazy. Here's what goes for a normal day around here...
Wake up because Cinder is whining and has decided that the rest of the household should be up and going. Get up, get dressed into my chore clothes, feed the cat, clean the cat box, let the 3 dogs outside to do their business. Microwave some potatoes for the dogs' breakfast and add it to their raw meat and veggies. Let dogs in. Fill up the water bowl with fresh water. Feed the 3 dogs.
Start to make the coffee. Pause to wonder why there is dirt on top of the coffee maker? Ponder about this for a couple of minutes, and then realize it's because the guinea hens were digging up my garden under the kitchen window yesterday. Wipe up the dirt. Finish making the coffee. Fill up the dog bowl again because Cinder drank it all. Wait till Cinder gets on the couch, then take John and other 2 dogs for a 1 mile walk to the road (well, half mile each way) to pick up the morning paper. Get back to the house and let the guinea hens out of the coop. Drink coffee and read the paper with John in the screened in porch. Spend 10 minutes trying to get Cassie to stop barking at the hens because the hens have decided they want to move in with us and spend their time right up by the house. Give up and take the dogs inside so they stop driving me crazy. Get my cereal and finish the paper. Take my cereal bowl to the dishwasher and hear "rat-a-tat-tat" coming from outside. Look out the window and see 3 guinea hens on the hood of John's car pecking at the metal. Yell to John to let him know and watch while he tries to shoo them from the cars. Chuckle. Check email. Search for the receipt for our newly purchased microwave that I put away somewhere that I wouldn't forget. (the receipt, not the microwave) Can't find the receipt. (thank goodness for small town stores that register your purchases) I'm sure the receipt will turn up sometime 2 years from now when I'm looking for something else altogether. Time to get outside.
Get out the stain to paint a strip of the house between the bottom of the house siding and the deck that the previous owners missed when they painted the house. (you would never notice this wasn't painted unless you sit on the outdoor swing in the early evening while John barbeques. The outdoor swing is positioned in such a way that every single night I think "I must paint that strip of naked siding"). Done. Decide that since I have the stain open I might as well go around the house and see if anything needs touch ups. Get to the front porch and decide I might as well paint that since the whole thing is in desperate need of a new stain job. Pause when I hear the guinea hens start screeching like they've never screeched before and decide to go see what's up. Go down to the apple orchard (where I think the sound came from). No guinea hens, but lots of apples that look ripe. Pick an apple and try it out. Hey, it's good! Eat my apple on the way back to the front porch and finish the paint job. Put the paint away and get paint all over my rubber boots (my rubber boots are my fondest possessions). Get out paper towel to wipe off my rubber boots. Start counting the pop cans so John can return them in town when he takes back our malfunctioning microwave. (Question to self and to the Nova Scotia government: Why do you call it a 10 cent per can deposit when you only give me 5 cents per can when I return them? Maybe it should be called a 5 cent deposit and a 5 cent tax. Question to the staff where we return the cans: why do you always ask us how many cans we have? Isn't it your job to count them?)
Back to outside work. Take Mulligan and Cassie outside to hook up to their chains so they don't eat the guinea hens. Decide to dig up the sod along the length of the house to make room for a garden next spring, as well as lay some flat stones to make a patio. As the thousands of rocks just underneath the surface of the grass make this a really tough job, get a a measly strip of 5 feet done and fill the wheel barrow. Wheel it to the end of the house to sod over a big space that the previous owner's did not sod. The guinea hens see me at the end of the house and come running. Get distracted and dig up 3 plants from the wild flower garden to move to the garden at the front of the house with the same type of flowers. Guinea hens follow. Go back to digging at back of house, guinea hens follow, dogs go crazy. Take dogs back into house. Go back to digging. Lay 4 stones to start the flagstone patio. Guinea hens decide they'd like to dig too and the dirt starts flying from the back garden. I run after them, screeching, to try to scare them away. They run, I run, they run...in circles. I go to the deck to sit down and ponder life on the farm. The guinea hens trot over to me and all 8 of them are within 4 feet of me clucking and chirping. I decide I've had enough digging for the day and go have a shower and some peace and quiet. The cat sits outside the shower and meows the whole time I shower. Yes, he's a little different and loves water. I get out of the shower, look out the window. And what do I see? All the guinea hens.
The day is half over. Think to self maybe I should have gone into town with John after all.