With Farmer H working only three days a week, and lately going in on Monday and Friday mornings as well, with plans to take more time off in the future...it's no wonder that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom can't keep track of the days. That's the one thing I miss about work. The routine. Looking forward to Friday. Now I look forward to Tuesday. Or half of Monday.
I pretty much try to keep to myself. Let Farmer H roam around the grounds, building and hoarding and tearing up the driveway and not fixing the front door knob. I did the Devil's Playground shopping on Friday, and had just finished putting stuff away when he arrived home after a half-day. You can't imagine how happy I was to hear that he was going to the auction that evening.
Saturday was kind of yucky, with clouds and sprinkles. Farmer H stayed inside the Mansion for a good portion of the day, alternating between NASCAR and ROOTS on the TV. He picked up Casey's pizza for supper, and I snagged a couple pieces and practically ran down the basement stairs to avoid him. It was worth the wear and tear on my knees. Once I go subterranean, I rarely come back up until the wee hours, when Farmer H is already snoozing. It makes me no nevermind what he's up to while I'm below. Sometimes, if he decides to go somewhere, he'll holler down to me. A lot of times, he goes over to the BARn without informing me. And sometimes, he tosses supper scraps out on the porch for the dogs, or sticks his head out and hollers at them to be quiet. The slamming door doesn't make me go looking for him.
Sunday, as I returned home with my 44 oz Diet Coke, something caught my eye as I turned in the driveway. Something was different. Up by the carport. What in tarnation WAS that?
Sweet Gummi Mary! WHATEVER it was, it was ugly. U-G-L-Y, it didn't have no alibi. UGLY! It looked like a wheelbarrow that was turned over to keep the rain out of it (or to protect the fresh dirt from our old dog Grizzly's grave so the other mutts didn't dig him up back then), with an old soggy cardboard box on top.
Once I parked T-Hoe in the garage and walked around, I saw what it was.
Yeah. Its looks didn't improve up close. Now it looked like a crappy clamshell with a dead lobster on top. As you might imagine, I inquired of Farmer H as to WHY this thing was in our yard, and when it got put there.
"It's a decorative rock! With a piece of driftwood on it. I put it there last night."
Uh huh. You can see that he had no qualms about driving some large vehicle (probably one of his tractors) on the not-driveway.
I don't really want that thing in front of the ugly fence for all to see. Look away. It's hideous!
I might need to start keeping closer tabs on Farmer H.