G'night

The chicken attrition has abated. (Ha! Love that sentence.) No further bloody clumps of feathers, the count holds at seven. Whew.

We're back in court tomorrow. Thoughts and prayers are much appreciated. I'll be reorganizing bookshelves in between subjects in order to burn off that buzzing noise in my head that seems to show up every time we have to do these things.

Q has his final fitting tomorrow for his AFOs. Why don't I know what that stands for? They're his rigid orthotics and they're cool: Camo. Yeah, baby. I'm sure he'll look like quite the little dude. Hee.

I'm tired. I suppose that's a big fat "duh," huh? Maybe with the help of ibuprofen, Q will sleep tonight. And if tomorrow you hear someone singing, "Jesus Loves the Little Children," under her breath, that's me. Ignore it, it'll go away.

Have a good sleep, everyone. Extra kisses for those little ones, always.