What do you do when you get stuck in the sort-of-stinky, sort-of-fly-infested barn with 10 chickens, 2 goats and 5 bunnies during a torrential downpour that prohibits your escape back to the house?
You contemplate life.
You contemplate the rain.
You contemplate that the rooster has really black, beady eyes that stare at you from the corner the whole time you’re sitting there on the bucket contemplating the rooster. You wonder if you blink your eyes really aggressively at it, it will attack. You decide it might. You don’t blink aggressively, or breath aggressively or do anything aggressively for that matter.
You contemplate that everything inside the chicken coop/goat pen/bunny cage looks really brownish grayish. It could all use a really lively, clean, fresh coat of paint. Maybe we’ll get that done before the Harvest Party. Maybe we’ll paint something cute like “eggs $.25” on the nesting boxes. Maybe we’ll paint “Solitary Confinement” on the cage where we put new baby anythings or misbehaving chickens. Maybe I’ll put my six year old on that job. Or in that cage.
You contemplate your six year old, who is at present standing on the hay box, soaked and catching in his mouth one of twenty constant streams of water that comes through the otherwise leak-proof roof.
And finally, you escape back to the house for a shower.