Monday. A wet-blanket day. A wrung-out-dish-rag day. A walk-in-the-woods drippy, damp, gloomy day.
In fact it's one of those days.
It's half past nine. There's a semi-bald, caked-in-blood juvenile cockerel cowering in the woodshed (I've mentioned before how nasty chickens can be). The wild boar have been at the garden again. Jakob! is lying panting in the doghouse, covered in wild-boar mud (read poo-poo) and licking off the yolks of nine (yes, NINE) stolen eggs. Mamma's also covered in mud, along with chicken poop, egg yolk and cockerel gore, and there's weasel poop on my walking boots.
Oh yes, and I have the first cold of the school year.
So.
Sod the washing up. I'm off to take a shower, throw everything in the laundry, and then retire to the sofa with a glass of hot Lemsip and the last two chapters of Wuthering Heights, which I hope will show me that it is possible to have worse days...
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Monday, 20 September 2010
One of those days
Monday. A wet-blanket day. A wrung-out-dish-rag day. A walk-in-the-woods drippy, damp, gloomy day.
In fact it's one of those days.
It's half past nine. There's a semi-bald, caked-in-blood juvenile cockerel cowering in the woodshed (I've mentioned before how nasty chickens can be). The wild boar have been at the garden again. Jakob! is lying panting in the doghouse, covered in wild-boar mud (read poo-poo) and licking off the yolks of nine (yes, NINE) stolen eggs. Mamma's also covered in mud, along with chicken poop, egg yolk and cockerel gore, and there's weasel poop on my walking boots.
Oh yes, and I have the first cold of the school year.
So.
Sod the washing up. I'm off to take a shower, throw everything in the laundry, and then retire to the sofa with a glass of hot Lemsip and the last two chapters of Wuthering Heights, which I hope will show me that it is possible to have worse days...
In fact it's one of those days.
It's half past nine. There's a semi-bald, caked-in-blood juvenile cockerel cowering in the woodshed (I've mentioned before how nasty chickens can be). The wild boar have been at the garden again. Jakob! is lying panting in the doghouse, covered in wild-boar mud (read poo-poo) and licking off the yolks of nine (yes, NINE) stolen eggs. Mamma's also covered in mud, along with chicken poop, egg yolk and cockerel gore, and there's weasel poop on my walking boots.
Oh yes, and I have the first cold of the school year.
So.
Sod the washing up. I'm off to take a shower, throw everything in the laundry, and then retire to the sofa with a glass of hot Lemsip and the last two chapters of Wuthering Heights, which I hope will show me that it is possible to have worse days...
5 comments:
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Karin said...
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Lovely to catch up on all your posts! We're having a gloomy day here too - but it's not a muddy, poo-poo day! Hope there are better days ahead!
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Monday, 20 September, 2010
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Lee said...
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Good grief! My life is positively dull. I feel like an underachiever!
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Monday, 20 September, 2010
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Anonymous said...
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No wonder I like cities! Ilse
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Tuesday, 21 September, 2010
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Anonymous said...
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Had to laugh at your delightful description of poo, animals and life in general.
Enjoy the book - and out with that cold! -
Tuesday, 21 September, 2010
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Rosie said...
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Mondays are a nasty shade of brown and taste of bleach.
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Thursday, 23 September, 2010
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5 comments:
Lovely to catch up on all your posts! We're having a gloomy day here too - but it's not a muddy, poo-poo day! Hope there are better days ahead!
Good grief! My life is positively dull. I feel like an underachiever!
No wonder I like cities! Ilse
Had to laugh at your delightful description of poo, animals and life in general.
Enjoy the book - and out with that cold!
Mondays are a nasty shade of brown and taste of bleach.
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