What do Crazy Neurotic Writers Do When they Can't Sleep?

Well...I can tell you what they SHOULD do, they SHOULD work on their novel, however, tonight, would NOT let me down that easy, and when I curled up to spoon my love J, my mind was racing...my body unable to melt into our usual spoon-each-other-to-sleep routine.

So I got up.

Then I stood in the hallway wondering, what the hell am I going to do now?  I opened my closet door and took a whiff of my experiment....going well I'm happy to report.  Smells like a French Whore in there...in a good way!

Feeling a bit ridiculous standing in my hallway having no idea what I was going to do next made me decide to dump bleach in the toilet bowls...give em a good overnight soak.  Then I put a post-it-notes on the toilets telling my boys to keep the lids down so the dogs don't sneak a taste.

When that was finished, I snuck back in my bedroom, grabbed my ipod, and my kickass ginormous headphones so I could rock out while I loaded the dishwasher.

Then the moon looked really cool outside, surrounded by an eerie fog, shining through the tall trees in my woods behind my house...So I grabbed my camera, but fate foiled me, dead battery.

I checked on my baby chicks, cutest little chickens this side of the canal they are!  Tonight, while watching "Walking Dead" with Jerimy, one of my little fluffy-butt babies was curled up on my chest.  I decided that watching TV with baby chicks is a good bonding exercise, so we're going to give it a whirl.  We'll see how it goes.

Aren't they freaking adorable?

So then, while in the garage with the chicks I saw my poor motorcycle, COVERED in a layer of dirt so thick, that I just couldn't stand to leave "The Piglet" like that.  Did I ever tell you my Harley's name is Piglet?  Anyway, the BEST part of having a heated garage in February is that you can do weird shit in the middle of the night like randomly polish your Harley that you can't ride.

So that's what I did.  I gave her a good once over, dusted, washed, polished....got my knuckles greasy and hands dirty while the rest of the occupants of my house lay sleeping, oblivious of my new nocturnal prowling about.

You can't tell in this picture, but she's ENTIRELY cleaner than when I started!

On a side note, my baby chicks LOVE it when I sing to them.  They really have no accounting for taste in the musical department mind you...they are chickens, so my singing is ok with them.  They don't know any better.  I sang to them on my way home from Van Wert after picking them up, and then again tonight while sitting with them.  After I covered my beloved Harley with a sheet to protect her from another 2" of fresh dust and grime, I turned out the garage lights for the night, and went into the house.  One of my little chicks REALLY started peeping!  I stopped, and turned, and went to see what was bothering her....the other five chicks were all nestled up together, but this one was peeping for her life it seemed.  So I asked her, "what's wrong little one?"  She cocked her head sideways, peered up at me and ruffled her feathers.  I asked her, "you want one more song before bed?"  She let out a single sweet peep.  Ok, ok, lets see what have we got on the ole ipod that I can sing you to sleep with....I just so happened to be listening to my headphones as I cleaned and whatnot.  I tried to sing them All of Me by John Legend, wow, they were having NONE of that, they all jumped up like I'd dumped a bucket of water of them!  GEESH!  TOUGH CROWD.  Ok, ok, no John Legend!  So I went back to one the first track on that particular playlist:  As it turns out, my chickens really mellow out to "all about that bass" by Meghan Trainor.  Only my chickens!  I've corrupted them and I've only been their Momma for about 9 hours.  I think that's a new record!

In happy news, you would never know that a HOLE like THIS:

could bring joy to so many people!  {Yes, I meant for that to sound a wee bit naughty in nature}

THIS HOLE, turned our little chilly house in the woods with baseboard ELECTRIC heat, into freaking Cancun during spring break!

Our Thermostat does NOT get higher than like 62 degrees from November to the end of March.  We all wear fleece socks, pants, shirts, hats etc. just to lounge around watching tv, while snuggled under TWO blankets...My friend Steph came to visit me the other day and she never took her coat off the ENTIRE time she was here!  Yeah, it's chilly here!  So when this hole, turned my world upside down and gave me THIS little thermostat boost of:

I nearly fell over dead!  I mean seriously, 83 degrees, I don't even know what to do with that many warm scrumptious delightful degrees.

My cheeks are flushed, I'm wearing a tank top and contemplating shorts, and I may or may not have pretended to ride a wave on a fake surfboard beneath the magical hole that Jerimy put into our ceiling.  I had to come back here in my office just to cool off!

EIGHTY THREE FREAKING DEGREES PEOPLE!

I can almost feel my bones thawing out!

Feel free to do the "osting/Siefker" happy dance with me

This is how we do it in Spencerville, feel free to practice...they'll keep dancing for you until you got the moves down pat!

Ok, so it's 2:39 a.m. and I'm finally starting to feel a bit weary.

Time for bed before I get a THIRD wind!

Plus the notion of assuming the spooning position with J sounds mighty fine right about now!

Night night!!

~HeatherLynn~