I am always dismayed by how much pain people suffer on holidays, which are supposed to be happy occasions. I wonder why we place so much importance on occasions which are artificial constructs, invented by the advertising industry on behalf of retailers to encourage us to spend. Mother's Day, Father's Day and all the rest. Secretaries Day for goodness sake which has morphed into 'Administrative Professionals Day'. How have we allowed ourselves to feel unloved, if not downright failures, if we don't get some store bought acknowledgement? It is all a dollar based guilt trip people!
Rant over, what are my plans for Mother's Day?
I am hoping to guilt my husband into doing some repairs to Mr Quigley the pig's house. He (Quigley) is only fed once a day and gets pretty anxious around about 4pm. This is expressed by heaving his very portly body up to put his front feet on top of the four foot tall side wall so he can see over if he hears any activity at the back door. He is no longer the 'slightly bigger than a pop can' piglet he was three years ago, he now weighs over three hundred pounds. He has also chewed a peep hole in the salvaged and recycled plywood we used when we built his shelter.
Because I am greedy I am also hoping that we will find time to extend the baby house (which is what we call the 8 x 8 shack in which Mr Q resides) to provide a small lean-to shelter for the sheep. We bought the material for the job years ago. The sheep are able to huddle under the overhang but I want more. I don't like being out in the wind and rain and I don't like thinking of Larry being out there either.
I am too old to pout charmingly so I will just whine.
Y'all come back!