Dear Diary, I have a list a mile long of chores to do on my day off today. Unfortunately, this is what greeted me this morning as I was heading out the door:
I can wait to work in the garden.
Cole's not interested in chasing squirrels at the moment. Maybe later.
Later, I'll chase down my horses to pull their blankets and de-pooping. Yes, the horses like to lay in their own manure.
The dogs make exceptionally good paperweights.
Anyway, I'm almost done procrastinating.
Almost. Today I will day dream about a 1920's picture my stepdad sent me:
Motorcycle chariots. I want one. I even have an assortment of headgear too.
Too space cadet.
Too Monty Pythonesque.
Perfect.
We're ready. Where are our iron horses?