Liam woke up on the wrong side of his big boy bed today.
I felt like I never woke up all the way.
I drank lots of tea.
Liam whined his way through the day.
And he didn't nap.
I drank more tea.
Liam climbed into the open clothes dryer and peed in it.
More tea for me.
But as bad as mine and Liam's day turned out to be, one of our Plymouth Rock chickens (the black and white speckled ones) had a much worse day. It was her last.
I discovered her in our pond this evening not long before Gabriel got home from work. She was floating on the surface, like a duck would, but her eyes were open and cloudy. She must have fallen though the melting ice and slowly froze to death. So, so sad.
Liam noticed her, too. He kept saying chicken fall in pond, sad, chicken died... over and over again.
We watched out the window as Gabriel fished her out and buried her next to the hawthorn tree. Amazingly, the ground was thawed to the point where he could dig a deep enough hole.
We thanked her for our eggs, I shed a few tears, and Liam said bye bye chicken.