I am happy to say that this hell week is over. It has been a rough one, but thankfully we have hit Sunday night. I did a whole lot of that "helping others" stuff that as a Catholic has been drilled into my head throughout the years so I am thinking I earned some brownie points with the man upstairs. So maybe I will be excused when I sleep in or Easter Sunday.
I did breakdown and do some yard work today. I raked the backyard last week after some peer pressure from George, my over achieving neighbor. However, it is my front that is a disaster. I was discussing the situation with my husband this morning and told him it needed to be done. He said he wasn't doing it because he threw his back out last weekend. Just great for me. At any rate, I went to the grocery store with plans to do it when I returned.
When I pulled into the driveway after my shopping I was shocked to find my kids raking. Trying to get my kids to do yard work is nearly impossible, but they actually looked willing. When I stepped out of the car my oldest came running over and said, "Daddy said you would give us cash if we raked the yard." Fantastic daddy. When I was a kids I never was paid to do yard work. It was expected of me. But whatever, it was getting done and I was glad for that.
After I finished putting the groceries away I grabbed a rake and went out to help. I hate raking. I would honestly rather have my fingernails ripped out but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. I spent the better part of the afternoon working away. The flower beds are done and part of the lawn. I need to go rent a mower with a bag attachment to do the rest because the damn grass has already grown too high. If I cut it with my mower before I rake all it is going to do is scatter tiny pieces of crap to rake up. Unfortunately the rental place is closed on Sundays (which I really don't get, isn't that when people do their yard work).
I was pretty damn proud of myself for the job I did. I caved to the kids and instead of giving them cash I got them a cheap, used Wii game. When I was away to get it my husband let the chickens out. I have a love hate relationship with the chickens. I love the eggs they produce, I hate everything else. They crap all over the place and dig up everything. Usually they are confined to the backyard so it isn't too bad (sometimes they hop the fence and go into George's backyard to forage, I can't really blame them, his yard rocks). However, my darling husband left the back gate open. When I returned home the damn chickens had just destroyed my flower beds that I worked so hard to clean.
After my screaming fit the kids put the damn things back in the coop. I am now dreaming up lots of wonderful chicken recipes to make for dinner this week. Because unless my husband builds them the run he has been promising me for the past year they are all going into the frying pan.