“…just in case you start making smoothies” she said. I haven’t made a smoothie in maybe 38 years.
But as she was packing the second trailer full of stuff this weekend, I got to hear about every little item she was going to “leave” for me. It was pretty much all things she didn’t want or need.
Not that it matters to me. I just moved around the remaining furniture to make it look like there was something reasonable in each room. Two bookcases in a corner with a chair next to it became my library.
Frank the sled dog wouldn’t have left anyway. But I wish that Bob The Hairy cat would have snuck on board.
But the thing I had the most fun with this weekend was getting some baby pheasant chicks, and less fun was making the pen in the woods out back for them. Three of the bigger ones got loose in the transfer.
Someone told me that pheasants are fast. That’s like saying that meteors fall to earth “at a pretty good clip”. I took off running through the brush with my long-handled net, and ended up looking like I had gone through a shredder. I only got within ten feet of one of the long-legged chicks before it took to the air for a fifty-foot flight.
I’ll settle for seven chicks. I picked them up near a bar in a little town a few miles from here. You can get chicks there for two bucks apiece. “Money for nothing, and chicks for (nearly) free” came to mind. So already I have seven chicks living with me. And Dog and Bob.