On the chicken front things are looking much less cute these days. Feathers are replacing fluff, clucking is replacing tweets, and they poop...a lot, and lay in it, and eat it, uggggg. I wasn't really a fan of scrambled eggs before we got the chickens, probably because egg collecting was left to me as a child and I remembered the poop being stuck all over the eggs, but now it is because I know their diet consists of grain and their own dumps. Sooooo if you want eggs you will know where to call 'cause I ain't eating them. I'll buy the bleached ones from the grocery store....just kidding but ewww... for real people.
|That is not sweat people...it is wood chips from over head chain sawing that took place before said painting.|
The kids had fun though. We try at least once a week to concoct some sort of contraption that someone could potentially get injured on. I mean really, what is the fun of using things as directed? I assure you this one was awesome.
Bella is too smart for any dangerous activities and keeps close to me. She laughs and eggs Noah on in his endeavors but never gets too close. Clever that little one is. Clingy and clever and VERY WHINY. Lord can this child whine. She can whine till you yell totally inappropriate things in the company of the children. Things like, "I am one second away from getting in the car and NEVER EVER COMING HOME!!! YOU HEAR ME!" Yeah I am totally failing at being a good mom. Not really I am pretty friggin awesome. (Big pat on the back) No I am not but hey this is my blog dammit!
They look alright don't they. I think so. Moving on.
I grew wildflowers. They are beautiful. The end.