How could they not be happy, living in a neighborhood called "The Happy"? I got a giant box of egg cartons on the internets, and am selling a couple dozen to friends each week. My egg money buys me a lunch or two and it feels good.
Someone found a stray chicken in the neighborhood and brought it to me, thinking it might be one of mine...so now I have 13 chickens. The other girls are beating her up, so she's hanging out with me while I work. Very sociable little chicken she is; she keeps sneaking up behind me then running away when I turn around.
I don't watch sports, but some part of me does wish I could be vegging out in front of a big screen with a giant plate of nachos and chicken wings (don't worry chickens, not anyone you know) and some good movies. Instead I'm dealing with this:
and trying not to think about this:
Los Angeles noise ordinance prohibits "construction noises" on Sundays, so I guess the rotary hammer will have to wait until tomorrow! I'm looking forward to having a little less concrete in my life.