It's all in my head

A lot of times, anticipation is more fun than an actual event.

Just now I wrote an email in response to this Craigslist ad. It has me giddy, like a little girl, or like a teenager with a crush. I love the thought of me, an apron on, wispy tendrils of my hair escaping from my bun and sticking to my sweaty forehead.

The apron is cotton. And it's where I'm putting the eggs. A goat nips my butt, and I turn around and scold her. (Nevermind that the goats and the chickens probably are not in the same section of a barn.)

ACTUALLY doing this scares me. I'm sure it's a lot of hard work. 90 chickens??? That's a hell of a lot of eggs to find. I explained in the email that I have two specific places to look to for technical support. Jamie, of course (not that I've even asked, but of course she'd be ok with a slightly panicked phone call about eggs) is one. My aunt, a livestock farmer, would be the other one.

What do you think??

Meanwhile, I've got to go pick up my newly-inspected car, which needs neither a timing belt quite yet nor any other major work done.