Both Robb and I have been sick since the BORP ride. We are stricken with the longest, most tedious respiratory ailment imaginable. My days have been filled with a thrilling schedule of alternating inert-ness and hacking up chunks of yuck. Robb seems to have skipped the coughing part, which is good, considering the overall health of his back.
We're stuck in that awful cycle where we're bored out of our minds, but barely have energy to walk across the room. Today I took a shower. I wandered outside and stared at our chickens a couple of times. Robb and I migrated from bed to couch. We stared at each other. I coughed. A lot.
At some point while I was standing in the backyard staring stupidly at my hens, I picked up our hen Isabella to get a look at the state of her molt. And, unlike any sensible person, I promptly brought her inside so that Robb could snap a photo of her wing. It's the boredom and sickness, crushing my brain. I don't allow chickens into the house when I'm in my right mind.
It's actually kind of fascinating to see the new pin feathers pushing out the old ones. Fascinating, or just plain weird. I can't tell the difference.