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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2aO5FEf:
HOW DID I LIVE WITHOUT MOBILE TETHERING
now i can liveblog the following exciting things:
it rained today, which is so unusual around here now that we all freaked out. the cats freaked out. the pigs didn’t actually know what was happening. it’s seriously fucking dry here. i’m pretty sure the farm manager frolicked naked in it, for the five minutes it was happening. (We didn’t go check; he works hard enough, he’s allowed to let his freak flag fly if he wants.)
Now, I saw this coming. The windows of my car were down and the tono of the yurt was open. (That’s the hole at the top that the rafters slot into.) I opted deliberately not to jinx it by taking care of either issue, so. Things are a little damp in here, but the bed isn’t, and that’s all I really care about.
There’s a gun range right next to the farm, and that’s fine, you get used to constant gunfire. But it’s dark out, and someone is firing something really really unusually loud, and it’s kind of getting to me. Because. Bro. it is DARK OUT. The sun is DOWN. What are you shooting at???
This morning at 5am a crow perched in a tree directly above me, but real high up, and screamed for a while. Partway through this impromptu concert, another crow started answering. And then, and this is the weird part, that second crow started doing an impression of a wild turkey. I was mostly asleep so I did not think to attempt to record this. But it was the weirdest fuckin thing I’ve ever heard.
The thermometer registered 99 today but I wasn’t sweaty most of the time? I drank like, eight bottles of water, and moved very slowly, but mostly I managed to keep myself pretty low-key. I figure that’s an accomplishment.
Farm Baby keeps doing the most amazingly hilarious things and I want to Baby Poe all of them, but I feel like nobody really wants that. But you’re going to get it at some point.
Something I’m hung up on is that she’s addicted to puns, but not very good at them yet, being two. Better than she ought to be, but. It’s that kind of humor that’s her total rock-solid jam. A big one is that, ok, her name is Willa*, and her father at one point made a joke involving rhyming her name with quesadilla, mispronouncing the ll so that it would work. So she in response has now a long-standing, several-month-long “joke” where she takes the “quesa” part and adds it onto inappropriate objects, then whoever she’s talking to has to evaluate the merits of whatever object it is, and then she laughs hysterically. So like… “quesapuppy!” “Mm… too hairy!” “quesa-toes!” “Too stinky!” “quesa-refrigerator!” “too cold!”
It simultaneously makes zero sense and is the most amusing thing in the entire world.
So I need to think of something like that only with Poe. That’s my little brainteaser of the moment.
(*literally everyone calls her Willow if they don’t see it in writing, and it is sort of funny and sort of depressing, because of course her parents didn’t think of that or expect that, but. I mean. She’ll get used to it.)
Another Farm Baby Game is that for some reason she loves to come out to the yurt with my mother and re-enact the book What Was That, which features a repetitive thing of some baby creature going to bed and being disturbed by a series of noises and fearfully sitting up in bed and demanding, “What was that?!!?” and being reassured by the mother whatever-animal-they-are, and the hilarious part is that pretty much that’s what I do all night out here, weird shit happens in the woods and I’m all bug-eyed in here. Just now something rustled real close and I am not thrilled. But. Anyway. I mean, something’s definitely out there, but like. The odds of it being something I actually need to worry about are pretty damn slim.
But like. Bro. You need to cut that shit out. I’ve taken to yelling at things a lot. It’s remarkably ineffective. The chupacabras, incidentally, clearly got laid because it does not come grumping around anymore to yell at me. It was almost certainly a fox pissed off at having been friendzoned. Finally got laid, chilled its shit right out. Heartwarming.
HOW DID I LIVE WITHOUT MOBILE TETHERING
now i can liveblog the following exciting things:
it rained today, which is so unusual around here now that we all freaked out. the cats freaked out. the pigs didn’t actually know what was happening. it’s seriously fucking dry here. i’m pretty sure the farm manager frolicked naked in it, for the five minutes it was happening. (We didn’t go check; he works hard enough, he’s allowed to let his freak flag fly if he wants.)
Now, I saw this coming. The windows of my car were down and the tono of the yurt was open. (That’s the hole at the top that the rafters slot into.) I opted deliberately not to jinx it by taking care of either issue, so. Things are a little damp in here, but the bed isn’t, and that’s all I really care about.
There’s a gun range right next to the farm, and that’s fine, you get used to constant gunfire. But it’s dark out, and someone is firing something really really unusually loud, and it’s kind of getting to me. Because. Bro. it is DARK OUT. The sun is DOWN. What are you shooting at???
This morning at 5am a crow perched in a tree directly above me, but real high up, and screamed for a while. Partway through this impromptu concert, another crow started answering. And then, and this is the weird part, that second crow started doing an impression of a wild turkey. I was mostly asleep so I did not think to attempt to record this. But it was the weirdest fuckin thing I’ve ever heard.
The thermometer registered 99 today but I wasn’t sweaty most of the time? I drank like, eight bottles of water, and moved very slowly, but mostly I managed to keep myself pretty low-key. I figure that’s an accomplishment.
Farm Baby keeps doing the most amazingly hilarious things and I want to Baby Poe all of them, but I feel like nobody really wants that. But you’re going to get it at some point.
Something I’m hung up on is that she’s addicted to puns, but not very good at them yet, being two. Better than she ought to be, but. It’s that kind of humor that’s her total rock-solid jam. A big one is that, ok, her name is Willa*, and her father at one point made a joke involving rhyming her name with quesadilla, mispronouncing the ll so that it would work. So she in response has now a long-standing, several-month-long “joke” where she takes the “quesa” part and adds it onto inappropriate objects, then whoever she’s talking to has to evaluate the merits of whatever object it is, and then she laughs hysterically. So like… “quesapuppy!” “Mm… too hairy!” “quesa-toes!” “Too stinky!” “quesa-refrigerator!” “too cold!”
It simultaneously makes zero sense and is the most amusing thing in the entire world.
So I need to think of something like that only with Poe. That’s my little brainteaser of the moment.
(*literally everyone calls her Willow if they don’t see it in writing, and it is sort of funny and sort of depressing, because of course her parents didn’t think of that or expect that, but. I mean. She’ll get used to it.)
Another Farm Baby Game is that for some reason she loves to come out to the yurt with my mother and re-enact the book What Was That, which features a repetitive thing of some baby creature going to bed and being disturbed by a series of noises and fearfully sitting up in bed and demanding, “What was that?!!?” and being reassured by the mother whatever-animal-they-are, and the hilarious part is that pretty much that’s what I do all night out here, weird shit happens in the woods and I’m all bug-eyed in here. Just now something rustled real close and I am not thrilled. But. Anyway. I mean, something’s definitely out there, but like. The odds of it being something I actually need to worry about are pretty damn slim.
But like. Bro. You need to cut that shit out. I’ve taken to yelling at things a lot. It’s remarkably ineffective. The chupacabras, incidentally, clearly got laid because it does not come grumping around anymore to yell at me. It was almost certainly a fox pissed off at having been friendzoned. Finally got laid, chilled its shit right out. Heartwarming.
