This has been a rough week; the long and short of it is that I have torn the exhaust system out of my car while trying to do a good deed. It can't be fixed until tomorrow. That would be fine, as I could use Don's Jeep, but, even after putting a new battery in it, the blasted thing won't start. So, I could drive my truck, but John is using it to go to work and back. This leaves a goat, but they aren't having any part of it and have convinced the cow that no good deed goes unpunished (I think they heard about the car).
Add to this that I fell in the goat yard yesterday with a bale of hay. It was wet and my feet slipped out from under me and, before I knew it, I was on the ground with feet, arms, and hay in various contortions. So today I look as if I were smacked around and I feel a little like it, too. Of course, Amos is taking credit for it and telling the other goats that "this is what happens when the woman starts talking cart pulling." What a bully.
Does this make you feel happy that you aren't having my kind of week?