a rat called ian curtis

on blessings and curses

We find contentment in many ways.

For this fool, moments of grace and contentment occur when problems seem to take care of themselves.

You see dear reader, we have chickens.

Chickens are a blessing of eggs and hilarity.

And?

They are a blessing that come with a curse.

The curse?

Rats.

I’m not exactly sure of what the rat population is in my back yard but currently I’m happy to report that it is less than it was a couple of days ago.

You see dear reader, we here at Lakeview Meadows not only have rats.

We have depressed rats.

They may be goths. They may be emo.

One thing is for certain, they are depressed.

One rat, we recently discovered in the bucket of water we keep in the coop for the chickens to drink.

It seems that the grain was no good, global warming got it down and it had yet to infect a soul with the boob on neck plague and thus it cast itself into the bucket of shining waters. Though it lacked the garland of crow flowers, nettles and daisys, it was a grey clad Ophelia floating resplendent …