Thursday, May 13, 2010

Eleven Weeks Tonight, or Thursdays are still hard days.

I was going to type out a really depressing Edna St Vincent Millay poem for your enjoyment, but it wouldn't have been very enjoyable, so I read it all by myself and will have to try to think of something positive to write about tonight.

Depressing days are great days for me to clean the stove and sweep and mop the floors. The floors have been mopped more since Philip died than in the last year.

I washed 6-8 loads of clothes and folded them and put blankets and flannel sheets in bags for the kids to cart up to the attic.

Milked Coco twice. She wasn't terribly happy about the new arrangement, but I hope she will get over her discombobulation with the new milking shed.

The phone is not working properly, seems to go out when it rains. That kept me from having long depressing phone calls that would keep me from working.

I worked on the Dutch Valley coop order.

It is foggy and misty in the valley and the peepers sing loudly tonight. The guineas are squawking as they settle down for the night. The brush fire the boys built is dying down. I think they had a great time with that chore.

I am thankful to be going to bed early so I can get up and bake in the morning, God willing.

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