I hate house work!!! I’d rather work a 60 hour work week outside of the home than work 5 minutes inside the home. In fact, my disdain for house work has begun to manifest itself in a physical nature. I told Josh, my husband, the other day that I was allergic to washing dishes….and I was dead serious. Hear me out before you start shaking your head: our sink is in front of a window and the combination of the light and the water makes me motion sick like I’m on a boat or something…seriously, no joke…. I shouldn’t wash dishes.
Unfortunately, my job doesn’t call for me to work a 60 or 40 or even a 30 hour work week, which means the trade-off is house-ish work. I say house-ish because we don’t typically keep our chickens and goats and pigs inside the house….well, except for that one….eh, two times, but that is a different story for a different time.
So, house work! The only bright side to washing dishes, after having to take Anti-vert or Dramamine, is watching Jimmy ( If you didn’t know, Jimmy is my goat). My Jimmy is an interesting fella. He enjoys lying in the sun, long runs through the woods with his best friend Billie (one of our dogs), snuggling with Billie (as is evident by her fur wrapped around his horns), and drinking the occasional beer (don’t all goats drink beer?).
On one particular venture into the vast ocean and torrential waves of dishwater, I spied Jimmy laying on top of his dog house…goat house?…formerly dog and pig turned goat house, his head hanging (more like dangling) from the side, his chubby body still. I washed a few glasses. Looked out at Jimmy and he hadn’t moved. Broke a few bowls. Checked my horned dog, and his head still dangled. Cut myself with a few knives. The dang goat hadn’t moved, so I did what any alarmed mother would do…..I started beating on the window and yelling Jimmy!!!!!!!
Can you believe it, that monkey loving goat had the nerve to look at me as if I’d disturbed his nap; I could hear him singing “I’d just climbed out of a cottonwood tree. I was running from some honey bees. Drip drying in the summer breeze……”
Oh, well. I’m just glad he wasn’t dead on the dog house—err, goat house. Just another day in the life of not your average…

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