Thursday, September 12, 2013

Fall Coop Cleaning

I am terrible with remembering dates. I may be woman but my genetics fail me when it comes to birthdays, appointments, and anniversaries. When planning our wedding I'd initially planned to have it on 9/11 thinking, at last, a date I can remember! Wiser friends dissuaded me from this scheme and instead it wound up being on 9/12, preventing me from offending many and ensuring I'll never remember the date.

Like today.

The chicken coop gets cleaned twice a year, spring and fall. I use deep litter and though there's poo aplenty in it, it stays dry and doesn't smell. Since my allergies were already running haywire this morning I thought today would be the day to get this out of the way. It didn't take long to clear the night box deck of six months worth of poo and straw, most of which had long since crumbled to a fine powdery dust that quickly filled the air, my hair, eyes, nose, and of course my long suffering, asthmatic lungs. I needed to take the pressure washer to it, but since it's buried in the garage and I'm not feeling THAT energetic I decided to make the Mr. dig it out for me when he got home and deal with it later in the evening.

The evening of 9/12.

So here I sit, a liberal dusting of powdered chicken poo in my hair, grimy hand clutching my nebulizer, huffing myself into a stupor as I wonder when the two allergy pills I just took will knock me out cold. I'm filthy, wheezy, in dire need of a bleach shower, and due to pass out in about a half hour. That's when it hits me.

Today is our anniversary.

Oh it ain't like I *remembered* it. The Mr. just sent me a text asking if I'd figured out where I wanted to go out to eat tonight. His suggestions all require that my hair be did, my makeup be on, and that I be at least semi-conscious.

I have two hours to shower, scrape, spackle and style. Wish me luck.

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