Oh, the glamorous life I lead

Our chickens were not alone. They had tiny little visitors called lice. This morning hubs and I declared war upon the little buggers. We bought something very toxic in a spray can and made a plan. The chickens were still in their coop. (We open the door of their coop every morning to allow them to roam free and close it every night, when they are all inside again.) Our plan was ingenious. Hubs would open the door, catch a chicken, close the door, keep the chicken upside down holding it by the legs and I would spray the lice to a certain death (not the chicken). Next chicken please! Hubs was dressed for the occasion in jeans, a T-shirt, rubber gloves up to his elbows and a dust mask with the necessary filter. His job is all about safety at work you know. I wore my gown and the expensive jewellery I had borrowed for the Oscars, which turned out to be the OsKars, also not to be sniffed at, and Cece suggested that I could still wear the gown around the house. This seemed the right occasion. No rubber gloves and dust mask for me though. (Suddenly I'm wondering why not. Some things take a long time to sink in with me. Hmm.) Our plan worked remarkably well. Soon we had sprayed all 6 chickens and the rooster and they were only slightly upset. Then we cleaned the coop thoroughly and sprayed that too. After that we mucked out the stables of the horses. Then I mucked out the pigsty. This wonderful and exciting job was followed by my daily rounds scooping up the dogpoo from the strip of woods that surrounds our grounds. Then I had some coffee and cleaned the cat litter boxes. I don't know. Some days I have the feeling I'm always up to my knees in poo! Still, it could be worse. I could be having a job I hated. Dreading every morning that I'd have to go to that office again. For instance. Actually, come to think of it, I quite like my life. Please remind me that I wrote this if I'm ever complaining again.