We celebrated the summer solstice by going to Sunflower Farm for open farm night. It’s a magical place where kids can be in nature, interact with animals, blah, blah, blaaaaaah.
That place has really freaky turkeys!
They walk around like they are sex on a stick, so bowed up that I suspect one day they will simply perish from the effort of trying to maintain such outward masculinity.
We joined some friends for a picnic in the midst of intermittent gale-force wind but found a nice sheltered spot. Emily noticed the commercial size hand sanitizer left on the picnic table. It had bird poop on it. Strange.
I’m not scared of chicken shit having inhaled plenty of dried, aerosolized guano whenever I muck out the coop. But still, how did it get there? Half way into our meal I noticed that a bunch of turkeys were descending upon us. Circling like a pack of wolves, if you will. They didn’t think twice about attacking an unattended plate.
Mystery solved. We are in the turkey feeding zone.
We managed to chase them off when the farm dog hove around the table, looking for a handout. He cleaned up all the picnic sites. There’s no question why he’s built like a coffee table.
Zeb sussed out the farm cat, a fine specimen, and proved that he is man enough to satisfy one cat, two ways.
So interesting, right? It’s a slow news day. I still don’t know what day it is. I’ve gotten appointments wrong for two days in a row. I can’t seem to wrap my head around this day of the week thing. My kids think I’m nuts. I just have CRAFT syndrome. I Can’t Remember A Fucking Thing.
Time to cut the crap. I realize that I have fallen short of my ten-a-day these last few days, but I’ve been wrapped up with entertaining people and Some Very Exciting News which I will share with you at a later date. For now …
I experimented with throwing a vessel and altering so it looked hand built. It just looks amateurish and shitty. FREE.
More thrown vessels. They aren’t bad, they are actually great for a cup of soup or ice-cream, but I have ceramics coming out my ears. The good news for Tabby is that as I get rid of more stuff, the nicer it gets. FREE.
A dumb monster drawing thing that came free with a burger. TRASH.
A toy left behind by a tenant that only works with parental assistance. Hells no. TRASH.
A boy’s one-speed bike with pedal brakes, perfect for 4-5 year-olds. Testiclese has grown out of it and has graduated to hand brakes and gears. $25.