April Fool!

I've never been one for April Fool pranks. Or any other pranks or practical jokes, for that matter. I always feel kind of guilty for making other people freak out and then laughing at them, and I can't say I really enjoy being laughed at most of the time. I think the worst prank I ever did was refold an empty gum wrapper, stick it in the pack, and offer it to someone. (I know. Homeschoolers. I can't tell you how much pleasure my 7-year-old self derived from that "trick".)

Today I saw people on facebook posting about April Fools Day pranks, but wasn't really worried to be the recipient of any. I spent my day in innocent bliss: washing dishes, playing with the chickens (oh, we got four more....), giving Sasha a shower, and pining for sunshine.

Around 4:00, I remembered that I'd been meaning to check my library account because I had some books coming due. I got on and saw that I had quite a few actually overdue. Snap. Since I had to be to work in an hour, I figured I'd better get moving so I could drop the books off at the library.

As I was cramming things into my purse (I really need a better catch-all purse), my phone rang. Work. Now what?

When I answered, one of my co-oworkers asked if I was almost there. Not understanding at first, I asked her to repeat the question.

"Um, no. I'm not in until 5:00."

"No. You're scheduled for 4:00."

Cue panic attack. Psychological pranks are possibly my least favorite. So I'm freaking out, Mom is freaking out, and I somehow end up on the floor. Then my co-worker starts laughing, and I hear more laughter in the background. (Yes, she had it on speaker.) Through the laughter, she choked out, "April Fools!" I proceeded to huff about what a brat she was. And then I chuckled and hung up. Right.

I left soon after, and my run to the library didn't take as long as I thought, so I ended up getting to work early anyway. And for the rest of the night, we were all on edge. I really hate this "holiday".

In other news, we got four more chicks a couple days ago. Mom, Heather, and I set out for an hour-long drive to a hatchery with the intention of getting the much-desired Silkies. Unfortunately, there'd been some miscommunication somewhere along the line; the Silkies were all gone. Turns out they're in high demand this year. A little disappointment on Heather's part, and then we got three Polish chickens and a Brahma. They could be either hens or roosters, but they already have names. The Brahma, Heather's concilatory/Easter gift, is named Ginger. And she (though it may be a "he") knows she's exotic. And she has some attitude. On the other hand, the Polish chickens are pretty quiet and easy-going, so they get picked on (quite literally) by the others. They are Elvis, Presley, and Aida or Aidan. (Yes, Elvis and Presley. I tried to convince Mom that if the one she dubbed "Elvis" turned out to be a hen, she could call it "Presley" because it sounds more like a unisex name, but the next day one of the others was Presley.)

We're getting quite the collection. 23 chickens and 2 ducks. The oldest ones are starting to hit the "dinosaur stage", where they lose their baby fluff and start getting their adult feathers. When we went to get the last four chickens, we saw some ducks in this stage, and they were, quite frankly, ugly. As Mom put it, they looked rather like they had mange: fluff half-gone and feathers poking out all over the place.

I'm starting to think it was a bad idea naming the chickens; at least the Buffs. They're becoming kind of hard to distinguish from one another. Lobelia is still the lightest of the older set. I just keep an eye on her so I know which one she is. It helps that she's the most daring. She likes sitting on people's hands and arms. Mostly, she's trying to escape (and she can get some good air when she flaps her wings) but in that regard she's nicer than the rest.

Anyone getting bored yet? I know it's short, but I think I'll end here for the day. I'm still working on my Easter post. Maybe tomorrow....