My goodness, it's a miracle you're alive! You should write a children's book called "The Misadventures of Shortgrass." Every country kid would own a copy and you'd be rolling in the dough (and cow pies, poopy wool, etc.)!On that note, @TBirdsTheWord33, you know you're a country girl when you've been: Bit, kicked, stomped, bucked off, rolled over, drug through mud, trees, and water; spat, sneezed, and coughed on; smashed in gates, cattle chutes, trailer doors, and between bodies; thrown into fences, drug through the fairgrounds by an ornery ram, thrown off in front of hundreds of spectators; misfired and self vaccinated, fell in the sheep dip tank, stood in a wool bag and stomped poopy wool; jumped from said wool bags into what you assumed was another bag but it was concrete, fell off numerous haystacks, trees, barns, and the house..... Not a single broken bone
Oh, that is SO true! It seems our family has become synonymous with chickens. It's all about them now. They're fluffy and cute. We're big and ugly.So, I've read thru this thread & I see you all have seen the photos hubby got of me in my crocks and pjs! :/ Sorry about that.... In my defense, I did not know he set up the hunting camera there! Not my fault. You know you are country when people no longer ask about your welfare, nor the welfare of your family. They just ask:
" HOW'S THE CHICKENS???"
:cd
