We've kept the chickens alive for four whole days, yay us! The feather sisters are getting their wing feathers and are practicing flying over each other. It's really cute but the others don't like it, funny enough. We've been making an effort to handle them often so things are easier when they're bigger and flightier but it makes them cranky. I'm terrified one of them is going to try flying out of my hands and make a cartoon splat on the floor. They are growing so fast it's insane. Their little drumsticks are particularly adorable, they like to stretch after napping and the legs are so chubby and cute. We spend a lot of time standing over their box cooing at them, we're the biggest dorks ever.
I have to make a scary call to the insurance company in exactly 9 minutes and it might make me cranky. It might ruin my day completely but there's no point in putting it off. If I don't get everything settled as soon as possible some mysterious tree will fall on the Rogue and crush it to death. I meant to put it in the garage first thing but Matt has a job parked in front of the door. 'Course if it was in the garage and I didn't make the call at exactly 8 probably there would be a freak fire, better not risk it.
As an aside, I can't tell you how weird I feel about being an suv driver. It feels like driving a bus, there's so much more vehicle behind the rearview mirror than I'm used to. We talked about it incessantly and there was no way around it, that dog needs a car like a bus and it's not a sin to have all wheel drive in Maine. Matt keeps telling me it's actually a "crossover" and not an "suv" but the guilt is still there. Massive, massive amounts of guilt. Maybe I should get the virgin mary car seat covers and hang a crucifix on the mirror.