This is the festering, maggot infested tag of Things I Hate We got the meat from #13 (the cow I dislike, pictured left) yesterday. It tastes like store-bought meat, but my mom doesn't think so. We will see when we have the hamburger.We got 231 pounds total. 60 pounds of hamburger; I've got some thawing out, so we'll prolly have it for dinner tonight. Let's hope it doesn't have bones in it.
My parents...they live in a fantasy world. It's my job to crush and shatter their dreams, put simply. Their dreams can be best described as "quixotic," and they worship worthless objects, especially inanimate ones. I, on the other hand, have a phobia of filth and worthless things, and did I mention filth? Needless to say, I enjoy a clean house, they enjoy filling up a clean house with worthless things, there are two different mindsets, and I'm outnumbered.
They're coming around, though. It's silly watching them agonize over the filth. Their mental problem does not allow them to see what the cause is- they think stuff just "warps" in here, I suppose- they can't recall they bring it in.
Also, I've been a long-time supporter of not wasting money (and time). Anything you do on a 'small farm' loses you money. Let me rattle off a few of the features of our 'small farm' life.
- Raising chickens costs $30 a week on food and you make, if they produce their max, and people buy the eggs from you, $20. It takes about 20 minutes a day to feed/water/clean their eggs/sell the eggs. So you're not really making your time's worth. I mean, you know, you get to pay $10 a week to work two hours in a nasty chicken pen.
- We have 14 goats, and only 5 produce milk.
Needless to say, feeding 10 goats to let them live off of us parasitically isn't the way to run an efficient business. My plan is to get the next generation of milkers in, cutting off (the heads of) Little Stupid, Z, and Dall. Lighty and Moze can stay.
The problem is, our four current milkers all have problems.
- Moze loves kicking the bucket, and doesn't currently give enough milk. Saving Grace: Has huge teats, and her teats remind me of arm cannons. POW!
- Dall is a bad goat from a band of gypsy Satan worshipers which cursed her. Cull because: has a disease making her milk undrinkable
- Little StupidCullBecause: takes five times as long to milk as the others, due to her extremely small teats. Also, her teeth are in horrific condition, and her coat is in shambles. No goat in the herd likes her. She is apparently a "purebred," I don't believe that for a second.
- Z has a disease
- Lighty is a total dweeb. Saving Grace: Fair-sized teats, doesn't kick the bucket too often, possibility of throwing spots
I don't like slaughtering goats, and I don't like their meat. They're such gross animals...like eating, I don't know, like eating cockroaches. The meat makes your stomach hurt and stuff. My uncle says it goes great in stir-fry.
...my Mom says I have a demon. I don't know...I mean, is there a reason to like those goats? My parents, they're like, let's see...they're like drug addicts talking about the bad points of marijuana:
"Oh, it's uh, too expensive, man. Dude. Marijuana is safe in every way!!!" is the best anti-drug statement they (druggies) can put together.
The fact she doesn't realize, is that I must be the balancer. My parents love animals with all the inferno of a hundred thousand white-hot, glowing suns, and I, eh. I don't hate animals, I just don't have a psychological disease that causes intense, burning, somewhat creepy love for them.
Song of the Day is Name Above All Names by the Newsboys.
Pointless fact of the day, my Mom is REALLY amazed that a lady can't get over being cheated on by her husband five years ago. I guess she's either desensitized to being cheated on, due to being cheated on so much, or hasn't ever been cheated on so can't gauge how hard it'd be to get over.
Wouldn't having somebody cheat on you really, really mess you up? I mean, the kids, the banshees haunting the kids' treehouse...the extended family. The car.
Anyways, it's time to go to work on the kitchen, which is totaled AGAIN. I don't know why, but there's two bags of defrosted tater tots on the counter.
Kill me now.
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