When walking three miles didn't de-stress the stress yesterday, I gravitated to the kitchen where the singing began.
Instead of writing poems in my head, I was singing Johnny Cash's "Burn, burn burn...." as the shallots burned my eyeballs. Oldest Daughter thought I was cracked in the head until the shallot fumes wafted into the living room, where it burned her eyeballs.
I had exactly enough shallots and mushrooms to make three "cans." And when that did not de-stress me, I pulled bananas and mixed up banana muffins.
And after that, made an early afternoon trip to the barn, burning my lungs on the cold air, and singing "Blinded by the light."
What can I say? It was truly a day for singing.
It took one more trip than normal. I forgot my empty bucket and had to go back out for it. I think I left my brain in the house. I'm glad "Big boy" is not the charging kind of goat. I kept getting my boots stuck in the snow, after falling through the frozen layer on top. It was a slow process to him and back.
Today, I need to check my pantry and see if I have the ingredients to make granola. It's been a long time since I restocked, and the kids are asking for it to top their yogurt. I need a reason to stay busy, and to heat up my freezing cold kitchen.
If you've been wondering, Hubby is still on the picket line, but Oldest Daughter's car now has a new set of tires, and her brake lights are fixed. We are still playing the vehicle shuffle until the truck is repaired as well.
The "higher ups" are probably sitting around in their rich offices, sipping rich bourbon and smoking rich cigars, saying "Well guys, what do you think? Should we hold them out another week? A month?" While another suggests, "Lets make them wait, but how about giving them all a 2% raise, and a week later slapping them with a 4% increase on their health insurance cost?" And they all agree. Just my dry, not so uppity, opinion today. (And it's more about safety)
Now...if I could just remember where I put that homemade kid goat coat last summer. Hm. And where in the world did I put that leftover old pair of sweat pants? At least I know where the sewing machine is. I better get looking. Kids (she may have two) are due from Misty in six weeks or so.
Comments
A work strike is a hardship on the workers. The "bosses" don't really suffer. Don't cha wish there was more compassion for other human beings . . . from the ground level up?
Yippee for your daughter having safe wheels again. Now you need to be careful about your "wheels" when caring for the livestock outside!