Farewell.

We went away for the weekend. I drank way too much on Saturday night and felt like crap all day Sunday. The first thing I did when I got home was check on my chicks. Buffy came running up to me as if to say "Mommy! your home!!!" I picked her up and gave her a cuddle. She immediately made me feel better. I was dying inside... my insides hurt, I could barely think straight, I was working on 4 hours of sleep, and I still had another 6 hours to go before the boys were to go to bed....

To pass the time we went grocery shopping. Not an easy task when your energy level is on E.

Get home, unpack the groceries, cook dinner, almost time for bed... I go out to check on my birds again... I feel awful... I had a spare minute to go and hang out with them.

Orange Feathers everywhere.
NO!.
 I open the door.... The chicks are hiding in the nest box. I grab them... one, two, three.... no Buffy.

No. No. No.

I walk out... a pile of feathers, some entrails... nope. that was it. It was Buffy. The hawk got Buffy.

Awesome.

I have no energy to even cry at this point. I walk inside, go upstairs, sit down on the toilet seat, the hubster is giving Watts and James a bath... "Buffy is dead" Hubster says, "Sorry Scoots, I'm so sorry" He is in an even worse state then I am...

I just sat there like a lump.... that was the final straw to one of the worst days ever.

I went to bed at 7:15... James crying in his crib... not wanting to go to sleep... needed a bottle... I can't move, stick a fork in me. Hubster takes over... and soon crashes next to me... "My god, what a terrible day"

It ain't much better today either... I still feel like crap.
It's grey, cold, windy, not a lick of sun.
How appropriate. This one is going to take me a while to get over.