Limping Amok

It seems my obsession with Word Challenge on Facebook has come between me and my blog, and for this I apologize. You know, to all three of my fans.

I suppose I am stuck in the goldeny twilight zone between summer and fall. After a summer of parties and death-defying tractor rides and pyrotechnic idiocy, September was bound to be an adjustment. The kids have returned to school, the house guests have all flown back from whence they came, and suddenly I have all this... quiet. Isn't that what an aspiring blogger is supposed to want? And yet... RunAmok seems so empty. Chickenzilla's lonely crow echoes across the farm. The sheep keep breaking out of their pens, searching for someone at whom to baa. The pigs snort and grunt as they remember the endless supply of watermelon rinds, the audience they always had at feeding time. They stare wistfully at the empty pig-viewing chairs. They don't even know who they are anymore.

So maybe I'm projecting a little bit. But I can't stop myself from missing all the friends and family and, well, let's admit it, willing farmhands I had all summer. Especially now, with this lingering ankle injury. Pretty much every time I summon up the energy to hobble down to the chicken coops, I slip in chicken shit, or the grain bin bangs down unexpectedly on my head, or Chickenzilla decides to pick on me. Yeah, it's mostly funny, but less so, when there's no one there to point out said humor. I am grateful for all these boys I live with- my protectors, my fence fixers, my sheep chasers. I am so lucky they pick up where I slack off, and endure my hum-drum and ho-hum. Soon I will settle into bread and soup season and tackle those abandoned knitting projects. But for now, I just miss you all so much. So, I'll sit on the couch with my laptop, propping up and icing down my ankle, and kicking serious Word Challenge ass.