I just (almost) finished painting the treehouse down at the farm.
Impressive, I know.
I don’t know that there’s much to say about it, really. I spent three-ish days out in the sun and wind. It’s been blowing at like 30MPH for the past few days. Whoever nicknamed Chicago clearly never spent time in Southern Arizona. In short: I’m sun-burned, wind-whipped, and covered with dust.
This is my new posse:
The white one back there is on a diet because she was SO FAT that her cheeks were covering her eyballs and she couldn’t see!
Jus hangin out, bein all coy and stuff
What?
And now, on to matters of taste: A debate has come to the forefront of my life lately regarding chickens as pets. I think it’s a horrible idea. Chickens are kind of gross, actually. They smell and poop a lot and make noise. Plus, they’re weird looking. I’m all for goats (see above).
Do you really want this in your house?
