So yesterday and the day before that we have been working on tearing down the old barn. Which involved me using a sledge hammer. Yeah. Let me tell you something right now. Sledge hammers are fucking heavy. Also, I cannot aim one very well. Nonetheless it was extremely satisfying to take out my anger at the world on some old boards. I kept yelling things like 'I hate everything' and 'fuck the world' and my personal favorite 'bastard motherfuckers.'
Now the old barn was mostly on the ground, but not really. So we had to bash out boards until it fell over. Sometimes while standing on what was the roof because safety is apparently not important to us. Also there was a nail literally every two inches. I am not exaggerating for the sake of comedic effect here people.
Every. Two. Inches.
There were so many nails in the joists it looked like a comb. This baffles me completely. They didn't bother to put a foundation on the building, or you know, keep the roof repaired to any degree what so ever, but they put in so many, many nails. I can tell you one thing. Whoever built this was getting those nails for free. Somehow. Plus, I am fairly sure I have tetanus by now.
This morning I awoke to the sound of rain hitting the roof and thought 'oh thank god.' Since my spirits were high I rolled over and jokingly asked Scott if we could have waffles for breakfast.
Well I come if from feeding the animals and HE IS MAKING ME WAFFLES. I love him. Except for the fact that the waffles kept sticking to the waffles iron like grim death. It was like the waffles were dead set on ruining Scott's god damned morning. I kept wandering around the kitchen saying things like, 'It's okay I still love you' and 'I'm so sorry I said anything about waffles.' In the end he just made me pancakes and we pretended they were waffles.
This is how my chickens ended up with a nice waffle breakfast this morning. Which they had better fucking appreciate.
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