
Today I found an almost empty tube of white oil paint under a pile of papers. I used that and all went well. I'm not finished with it yet, but I like how it's going.
I picked up the bodies of the chickens and put them in a trash bag last night. When I first found them on Thursday I couldn't face the task, though I did cover them with plastic and put them in the basement. I stupidly left the door open in my haste to get away from the scene, and when I went out to finish the job some animal had torn them apart. The whole incident washed over me again and I shed more tears as I packed them irreverently in the bag. I closed them in the cellar to await trash day, when I'll have to deal with them one more time.
With death on the one hand, there's life on the other. I transplanted some of my plants from Wilson St. to the front yard here. They are surviving so far despite a less than peaceful ride in the car, their roots hanging over their heads in the back seat. I didn't take very much, but it's a start.
My car needed four hundred dollars worth of work, which I couldn't pay. Jim let me pay half and write a post-dated check for the rest. One of the many blessings of living in a small town..........
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