so much for the quiet country
Was it just a few days ago I was going on about how cute my little rooster was? Oh, so cute with his cock-a-doodle-do-ing. Yeah…it was cute alright. Until it started going off every hour on the hour (give or take a few minutes) all freaking night long.
I’m beginning to understand how they got their name. My rooster is a dick. And oh so attractive for a bird, but isn’t that always the way? The cute cocky ones are always trouble…I should have listened to Mom. (She’s had chickens before, you know.)
People seem to think living on a farm is all tranquil and quiet, but I can assure you, the sound of crowing at three am is not far from the sound of horns honking along a busy road. And speaking of loud…the damn bugs out here are ridiculous. It sounds like a UFO is hovering over my house. Either that or the plagues of Egypt are making a sudden comeback. Are those cicadas or locust? Is it any wonder I fall asleep listening to classical music?
But even Beethoven can’t drown out the sounds of my hundred and eighty pound mastiff snoring at the foot of my bed.
Are you still wondering why I never sleep?
Until the next time…I’ll be shopping for ear plugs.