* My father used to play the spoons while he was hovering over the stove (he was a chef, too, haha go ahead and say it) and sing a song whose proper title and lyrics I do not rightly know, but "hambone" was the protagonist and one line went "hambone went to the grocery store" and then there was ham and then the bone and then bean soup, etc. accompanied by rhythmic side-slapping and spoon-clicking, and often much bug-eyed face-making. His thyroid was overactive for much of my childhood, and he could make bug-eyes like nobody's business. Anyway, I digress: "hambone's" final stop here at Casa MFA is the layer pen (Paul and the grown-up laying hens and the "Nuggets 1.0" are in there). I really should have taken another video. Hotter and I watched one of the old Barred Rock hens meticulously pick the marrow from the end of the hambone for several minutes and just about laughed ourselves sick. Chickens are not nice.
* Hotter tore enough of the skin off of his shins in his most recent man vs. well-cap adventure that even I was kind of impressed. I kept on eating my macaroni and cheese and leftover ham pickings, because I've gotten kind of shellshocked into not giving a shit about anything short of a dead body, and sent him to shower and fetch the tweezers and bandaging stuff. I don't know if my cleaning and bandaging abilities and level of preparedness is more awesome (WHOO! PUT ANY SEVERED BITS IN A BAGGIE AND THEN ICE TO PRESERVE VIABILITY FOR REATTACHMENT, KIDDIES!) or pathetic (that I am so used to blood and such that it no longer even interrupts my dinner), but I am seriously thinking of buying Hotter some shinguards.
* I have to go to court tomorrow and am looking forward to it about as much as I do my next round of un-numbed dental work (no, not even soon, but SOMEday). It's for being too poor to pay a county tax, not anything to do with the MFA Children, but still. Same complex, same pool of judges as I've dealt with on many unhappy occasions due to the XY, same pre-court GI unrest. Bleh. This is especially awesome (no, not really) in that the child support check was a bit late and hasn't cleared so my story will essentially be "nope, still haven't taken care of that, yes, I know, six months, disgraceful, but the funds are PENDING so--"...yeah. I'll be lucky if I'm not thrown in jail for contempt.
* For the first time in a loooong time I'd love a cigarette. Don't worry, I won't. Just saying. Effing poverty. Effing XY. EFFING COURT.
* Our innernet was off for two days and Hotter managed not to snap at ME (he did thoroughly bawl out a bank manager for telling him the same thing I had tried to tell him about a common bank policy, but hey it wasn't me and I didn't hear it, being in the MFA Minivan with the kids, so YAY). That's the good news. The bad news is, he has every reason to lose his junk right now in light of some unbloggability, so bleh to that. He's MOSTLY forgiven for his earlier transgression; honestly I'm too tired to even be mad at him about it anymore. What did I miss while I was away?