Rain on the scarecrow, blood on the plow…

A few months back cadhla did her Iron Poet thing and I submitted three words. Admittedly, it was a bit of a goof because cadhla, in her infinite goofiness (for which we love her dearly), is always on me about my goats and chickens. I was very impressed. Even a little touched. Go her! Here’s the result: Plough.

And the blood on the plow part? Well, I finally finished the chicken house. I drove the last nail in at about 8pm on Monday night. Unfortunately, a half hour before that, I drove the hammer down on my left index finger. GAH! My son was out there with me…and laughed! Little bastard…he’s four, but still. My poor finger is all sore and hurty-hurting and black-and-blue and blood-blistery. Amazingly my nail hasn’t turned black, so hopefully it won’t fall off. The swelling has gone down too, so that’s a bonus.

Here’s to being glad it was the hammer in my hand and not the reciprocating saw…