Friday, September 21, 2012

my daughter, the druggie

Angel #2 started work yesterday.  She's going to be working the night shift at a veterinary hospital, but at the moment, she's doing a couple different shifts to get the feel of things.  She said it's a pretty big hospital with lots of employees.  The only snag in the whole thing is she had to take a drug test and failed.  Either she didn't study for it hard enough, or all the medication she was taking for the cold she has showed up in the test.  She was a bit surprised to see that she tested positive for meth - but since cold medicine is one of the ingredients, I guess it makes sense.  She said they're going to further test to it determine if it's the meds or street meth, though I hardly think someone on street meth is going to be ambitious enough to move all the way across the country and fill out a gazillion job applications in one week's time, so my money is on the Nyquil.

The TPers hit our house again last night.  We got hit on Tuesday night, but there was such a strong wind all day Wednesday that all evidence was blown away. Last night, Angel #4 was ready the invasion and was hiding out on the back porch.  She gave them a few minutes to do some decorating, then opened the door and yelled, "go get'em Diesel!"  The dog shot out of the house then stood in the middle of the driveway for a few seconds, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing, then he spotted the toilet paper wielding teenagers in the yard, let out a volley of barks and gave chase.  There were kids running all over the place while Angel #4 rolled with laughter.  She called the dog back in the house and Diesel got a hero's welcome for saving us from the perils of papering.  I've got the feeling they'll be back in full force tonight after the football game  to finish the job.

Jeanie, by the time we were done butchering, we were all so sick of chickens that I don't know when we'll even want to start eating them.  I know it sounds disgusting, but we threw the necks and  some other stuff right into the chicken pen for the layer chickens to polish off.  Yeah, we've got cannibal chickens.  I think from now on, instead of calling it the barn, I'll just call it the Donner Camp.  To balance out their food pyramid, I'm also cleaning out the garden and throwing all the left over veggies out to them as well.  There are probably thousands of people who would love a bushel of tomatoes, but since I don't know who they are, the chickens are getting them instead.

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