Thomas gets busy and now has nothing to do

Thomas signed himself up for the LSATs (the Law School Admission Test) several months ago. He's spent the past few months going over online practice tests, and a lot of complaining. Here is his study book:

Test day was yesterday (ALL DAY), so this past weekend, we prepared: plenty of #2 sharpened pencils? check. erasure sans any wrapper? check. a color print up of his admission ticket? check. a 1 gallon clear ziploc baggy to hold all his snacks? check. one sealed bottle of water? check. a paper map to the campus, including parking sites? check. Money to pay for parking if needed? check. analog watch? check.* prepared to leave phone in car while taking test? hmmmmmm...after a LOT of dithering, Thomas finally acknowledged he could make his way from a parked car, to the test site, and back again later that day without consulting his phone and, so, conceded that he COULD leave his phone in the car. These precautions were taken to ensure Thomas was in full compliance with rules set up by the testing company. Finally the day, yesterday, arrived. Thomas sprang out of bed early, scolded us for not waking him up, complained about the small breakfast we had made, grunted acknowledgement of the stash of snacks I made for him--some for the ziploc baggy and some to remain in the car--and then scowled at the watch. He then flew out the door, looking very much like someone who was walking himself to his own execution. Many hours later (about 10 hours later) he finally arrived home, happy and hungry. And now that the test is done, Thomas is bored and doesn't know what to do with himself.
*Older folks may think that rustling up an analog watch is no big deal but Thomas has never owned one. I had to make a mad dash to Target at 8 am Monday morning, the day of the test, to find a watch. I set the time and gave it to Thomas while he ate his breakfast. He didn't know how to put the strap on (he tried to slip it on over his hand to his wrist) and, looking at it bewildered, asked, "How do I work it?" Well, (1) open your eyes, (2) angle your face toward the watch, (3) notice the position of the watch hands. Later that day I was making fun of Thomas with a workmate whose daughter, one year older than Thomas, took the LSATs in February. He said she angrily complained when given an analog watch to use during the test, "I was never TAUGHT HOW TO READ these kinds of clocks!"

Peepers getting large

RIP Zachary Quack

Jami noticed a week or so ago that Zachary had a swollen belly to the extent that it was almost dragging the ground and she had difficulty hopping into her house at night.  So yesterday she looked up a vet for farm animals and found one about 50 miles away and took her in.  So for the first time in his life, Pretzel was alone:

Well, he better get used to it, because it turned out (a) Zachary was way older than any duck they'd ever seen, and (b) she had a condition not uncommon in older female ducks where they produce only yolks and they just accumulate inside them and rot.  Her only hope was major surgery, removing all the fetid bits and huge doses of antibiotics, and even then her chances were very slim.  So the best option was a peaceful exit.  However, they did give us this:

Suddenly hot

After a "Spring" that was unusually chilly, it's suddenly got very hot and very muggy, so we got the pool going.  Here Frederick "encourages" his aging pa to take a dip:

Yes, Frederick is now SIX FOOT FIVE.  I have not in fact shrunk.

Pecking disorder

So, we tried to get the chiclets (or peepers or chickpeas) to sleep in the chicken coop overnight with the old ladies, but the first day it traumatized them:

...and the second day they came out with bloody patches on their backs where at least one of the hens (WE HAVE OUR SUSPICIONS, PUDDLENUTS!) attacked the poor little dears.  So I decided they needed a safe space and fenced off a part of their enclosure (well, moved the fence from against the wall to across the pen):

I was pleased with myself until I came back later in the day to find all three big hens on the wrong side of it.  Still, the peepers can zip through the gaps with great speed, and the overall effect has been to give them by far the larger portion of the enclosure.  And they'll be big enough to give as good as they get in a week or so.

They Grow Up So Fast

Releasing the chicks into the chicken enclosure:

Death of a Prius (AKA a really stupid day)

So, today was supposed to be the day I had surgery on my right eye to remove "floaters".  This day has been long coming, and was in fact settled on as the first surgery slot after Thomas would be home from college, so he could drive me back, because the surgery place is in Jackson, MI (about 80 minutes drive away) and, unsurprisingly, you're not supposed to drive afterwards.  So, I got the instructions earlier in the week: no food or drink of any kind after 6 AM (so I had a yogurt at 4:30 this morning, when I woke up, as I always seem to these days) and get there at noon.  So we got Thomas in the car and were on the road by about 10:20.  My GPS ("SatNav") told me we would get there about 11:35.  At about 11:25, having just passed a sign for a place called Waterloo, I was peppering Thomas with questions about Napoleon (his idol, or one of them) when... a deer ran in front of the car.  Thomas saw it first and said something like "Ooooh don't hit that deer!" and then WHAM.  The deer died instantly and the front of the car crumpled up, but no airbags came out and we weren't hurt, so I thought at first we might be able to keep driving, but then I realized that pushing down on the accelerator wasn't doing anything and the car was just gently slowing down.  Fortunately there was an offramp right there and we coasted up it and made all the relevant calls (cancelling the appointment, telling Jami, calling for a tow-truck, calling the insurance, talking to Joanne, because she was the only one free to come and pick us up).  The rest of the story can be told in pictures:

Here's Steve (son of Ralph, founder of Ralph's Towing) stowing his handgun behind his seat (no really) before coming out to hitch up the car to be towed.

Here's the restaurant Thomas and I ate at while waiting for Grandma (literally 100 yards from where the car died) (Thomas had a veggie burger with all the fixin's, I had a Greek Salad, which was NOT ENOUGH given that I hadn't eaten since 4:30 AM)

Here's Grandma after she turned round after turning left instead of right on Clear Lake Road:

And here's Ralph's Towing Yard, of 1101 Burtch Road, Grass Lake, MI, probably the final repose of my beloved car.  We'll find out when the adjuster comes to look at it tomorrow:

The trip home

Getting Thomas packed and on the road took some doing.  First I insisted on breakfast:

Then we had to park in an alleyway next to his dorm and put on our hazards (like ten other sets of parents) to make it look like we were going to be there barely a second (more like 2 hours):

Then Thomas would bring me successive loads and I would cram them in:

I saw some kid throw away useful stuff into a dumpster, so now we are a small saucepan the richer:

Finally everything was in, and even more miraculously, I was able both to re-attach the bike rack to the car and attach the bike to the rack, and we were off!