April Fool Me

As may be apparent from my previous entries, I’ve been having some rough days lately. It’s just part of this transition time, I’m assured, and will pass eventually.

Yesterday was no exception. I went to the office, managed to be fairly productive, but did have a few tearful moments here and there that I bravely moved past. Last night was Stitch n’ Bitch (otherwise known as SnB, my knitting group) night, but now that I’m a singleton with responsibilities awaiting me, I go home first to take care of the dogs instead of hanging out late at the office and going straight to the cafe where we all meet.

So, I commuted home where I changed my clothes, fed the dogs, let them out for a bit, and fed myself dinner, too. While I was at it, I spent a bit of time on the phone with a friend, too. I then drove down to SnB without first checking on the hens, as I figured I’d do that when I returned after dark.

SnB was packed last night. We were squeezed into the back room pretty tightly, and I had a fabulous time chatting with the group. There were times when I was laughing so hard I was regretting the rigorous core workout my trainer had put me through the day before at the gym.

Just before I left, I checked my email through my PDA and my mood plummeted again. I had an email from the kitchen designer indicating that she’d been hearing back from the contractors with bids twice as high as we had anticipated for the kitchen remodel. This really kicked me in the teeth, metaphorically speaking, and I was very upset by it.

Once I got home, I checked on the hens to lock them up and collect the eggs. I entered the run as quietly as possible, and moved over to the Eglu coop to close it up. It’s fully dark at this point, and I was operating mainly by feel as I quickly closed the coop door, then opened the egg door to pull out the goodies. I was quite surprised to encounter large, plastic easter eggs in the nest box. WTF???

I quickly do a “beak count” and find only 2 hens locked inside the coop. And I briefly panic: someone has trespassed into my coop, stolen the eggs, *and* taken off with 2 of my hens, I think. Luckily, as I move back to the run door I see that there are 2 hens wandering around; apparently I wasn’t quiet enough when I entered the run and they had exited the coop before I could lock the door. Whew!

I collected the plastic eggs in my basket and headed into the house, trying to figure out who could have done this and wondering if I need to put a lock on the run door. When I got inside, I wrote back to the kitchen designer that maybe we should just forget it entirely; there’s no way I can come up with the money being asked for by the contractors, so why keep wasting our time.

Then I called my sister to vent and hopefully get some empathy. That didn’t go so well, and in fact made me feel even worse. I called Rachael, and she was a much better listener. She also explained what had happened with the eggs, which I was apparently too stressed to recognize for what it was: an April Fool’s joke. My hen’s eggs were encased inside these plastic eggs, although some of the plastic eggs also contained a bit of candy, too.

Jamie and the other SnB ladies had master-minded this to give me a laugh. Apparently they had all been eager to see my reaction when I got to SnB, but of course I hadn’t checked the nestbox before I got there last night.

I guess I am an April Fool for not recognizing the trick for what it was immediately. But I’m still thinking of putting a lock on the run, now.

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