Roundup of Ridiculousness

I know I haven't posted in a while, so here are some brief glimpses into farm life of late:

1. In the seven weeks that I've been here, Farmer has been to the grocery store twice.  The first time was on a day when it was pouring rain, and I had to beg him to go grocery shopping by pointing out the (many) items we lacked.  The second time was the other night, when Farmer decided to make lemon bars and realized we didn't have any unsalted butter.  Lemon bars, of course, are an urgent matter, unlike feeding the chickens or watering the crops, so off he went to the supermarket at 9pm.  By the time he got home, he realized it was too late to make the lemon bars anyway, so he made them the next morning.  While I was working.

2. Farmer hasn't been going to farmer's markets to sell things.  To be fair, this doesn't even seem to be about having more time for facebook--we legitimately don't have any vegetables to sell.  Actually, that might be more pathetic than if he were skipping the markets to sit on facebook.  Either way, Farmer pays for space at three farmer's markets for the season and he's been going to one of them.  One day he's going to show up and they'll have given his space to some random busker they've found around the block.

3. Now, I know that this is a farm and things are going to be messy and dirty, sometimes even in the house.  But there should not be mud in the bathtub when I go to take a shower.  Repeatedly.  Mud in the bathtub once?  Fine, you cleaned something off in the tub (I don't necessarily want to know what, or why the hose outside was not the venue, but whatever) and forgot to clean up afterward.  But multiple times? That makes me think it's some sort of house policy.  And that's not even getting into the dog hair that's all over the tub.  I'm pretty sure Farmer showers with his dog.

4. Farmer's Mother counts and analyzes the obituaries in the newspaper every week.  I don't know the specifics, like whether she compares multiple newspapers' obituaries or whether there's some sort of Excel spreadsheet involved, but I know that if you go to dinner at her house on a Monday she'll tell you all about the people who died that week: "60% of them were over 75, 12% had more than three children, five died of loneliness," etc.  The strangest part is that she manages to work this into conversation.  Don't ask me how, because I don't know.  Once the obituary talk has been introduced everything preceding it becomes a kind of blur.  It's like some sort of conversational rufie--you come to and you're smack in the middle of this fucking Albee monologue and you have no idea how you got there, but you feel vaguely violated.  One of these days I'll have to keep my wits about me and figure out how she's doing it.