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plenty of ice chest and all the other gears to throw these shenanigans. But I’ll play along just to ease my friend’s mind. “Ok will do.”
“See you guys Sunday.” The excitement in her voice makes me laugh inside. She is so certain I will like this mystery man.
     
    I hang up, push my phone into my back pocket; shaking my head, because I know exactly what Victoria is doing. I pour sweet tea into a glass mug, and start working outside in the yard. The sun is beaming, the wind is blowing just right, and the smell of privacy is incredible. Mufasa and Mulan roam the yard, while I work. They have so much space to run and play. Four years ago, I bought five acres of land, and hired contractors to build our house to my specifications and had the house built right dap in the middle of our land. My daughter Jocelyn loves animals and promises me she’ll be a veterinarian when she gets older, so I filled our land with animals. For my baby to be ten years old, she is already an excellent veterinarian. Having this much free space is awesome. I inhale absorbing everything around me. Nothing bets going outside and smelling different animal poops. The perks of country living. I grab a bucket, scoop dried corn, grain, sunflower seeds, and dried mealworms, and mix it together in the bucket. I unlock the chicken coop and pour the concoction into their feeder. We have forty hens and five roasters, and Jocelyn named every single one of them, but I can never remember who’s who. The hens lay tons of eggs daily. Most of which we eat. But while I was refilling their water containers I notice three chicks hatched. I run to the red barn, and grab the oval tin bucket, fill it pine flake shavings, and run back to the coop. Carefully, I cup my hands together and rests the chick one by one into the tin bucket. I lock the coop and walk back to the barn. After placing the chicks in the incubator, I turn on the heat lamp and timer. They look so itty bitty. It reminds me of when my kids were babies. Now they’re growing up so fast. Before I know it, they’ll be moving out on their own. Oh the thought of my babies leaving me kills me. I know as a parent we should want our kids to venture out on their own to live life the way we’ve taught them to be. But if I could, I would want them to live with me forever. Shit my land is big enough to build two extra homes in my backyard.
     
    Our baby goats Rainbow and Smurf follows me into the barn; I sit on the floor and pet them. When they see their mother Tinker pass by, they chase her down the yard and once they caught up with her, they latch onto her nipples and start sucking her milk. I stand and rub Tinker's head and continue working on the yard. The kiddie pool needed to be emptied so I huff and puff as I’m lifting the pool to remove the stagnant water and replace it with clean fresh water. There’s this guy next door who offered to build me a pond for our ducks. He said he can install a filtration system and siphon pump so it would be less work for me. But when guys do favors, they usually expect something in return. So I’ll rather find a business who can build me a pond, I pay them, and I do not owe them any sexual favors. I think I’ll have that done when the kid are in their summer vacation.
     
    Daisy and Daffy, our ducks swim freely in the pool. Shrek, Rainbow and Smurf’s dad graze the weeds against the first red barn. Shrek helps me out a lot by eating all the unwanted grass, but there’s just so much land for him to cover. I hear our American Yorkshire pig Popeye oinking in the shed. He needs some attention. Popeye needs company. I wonder if the classifieds have a female pig for sale. I walk over to check on his food, and it’s still full. Usually a pig just stays where they’re at and refuses to get up when their owner comes up to them. But not Popeye. Anytime we walk up to him, he greets us. He’s usually lazy, but when we’re around, he wants all the attention he can get.