Robert Burns' poem may not have been nearly as frequently quoted had he been me. Plus, we sort of changed the quote to suit our needs, and get rid o' the Scots.
Perhaps I am too used to the "Gang aft agley" part to lay my plans carefully. It doesn't work out for the mouse either. I planned to get the kids off to school, have some tea, go do morning barn chores, water the border garden and perennial bed, pick up manure, do cobwebbing in the bottom of the barn, clean the lamb pen, have some breakfast, tidy the Cowfeathers garden, ride Oslo, put new hinges on east side door of stall 3 so it can be used this winter, get the strawstack in order for the fall, order new straw, have some lunch,call in to work to get client numbers to make calls about bloodwork results and make case plans, take up the old rug in the sunroom, wash the sunroom floor, put down new rug, replace furniture, show ADT man the security system so he can do some tweaking, process tomotoes to start paste, get cleaned up, take kids #1 and #3 to kid #2's volleyball game, make dinner, do evening barn chores, go to bed.
Horse Plans: Become irritated at close proximity of other mare, bare teeth, put back ears, cause other mare to completely demolish stall wall in stall #2, crash through door to feed room, eat potentially cardiotoxic chick feed.
Chicken plans: Get into rooster fight next to riled up horses, get stomped on by horse. Break something. Scream at top of rooster lungs while being inspected for damages, need stitches.
Sheep Plans: Be inspired by horse escape to participate. Break through stall door, bending hinges, repeatedly crash into brand new barn tools until they are suitably unusable. Follow horse to feed room, get run off of potentially toxic chick feed and go through fencing. Find horribly expensive ornamental kale and just-ready-to-bloom chrysanthemums. Find kale very tasty. Find chrysanthemums stomp worthy.
My plans: change my plans.
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