Black and Blue Division

It must be Spring at the Genuine Faux Farm.  We can tell because the number of bruises, cuts, sore muscles and joints and other various dings are getting harder to track.  The conversations Tammy and I have sometimes might be disconcerting, confusing or amusing depending on how you're feeling at the moment.

"Where'd you get *that* bruise?"
"Which bruise?"
"*THAT* one."
"Oh, I don't know.  I think that's where I ran into the tailgate on the truck... no, wait.. that was *this* bruise..."
"It looks painful."
"I suppose, but it only hurts if you bump it into the tailgate on the truck..."

Or maybe we come to wrong conclusions such as this one:

Rob earlier in the evening. "You know, I was really dreading how I would feel at the end of the week.  I'm not as sore as I thought I would be."

Rob later in the evening (after sitting down for dinner).  "Uh oh.  I think I'm really dreading how I'll feel in the morning."

And, yet another disturbing conversation:
Tammy, digging into the cabinet in the bathroom:  "Hm, we don't have any bigger bandaids.  We just have a bunch of these little bandaids."

Rob: "Pffft.  If we had a cut the size of those little things we wouldn't bother with a bandaid.  Maybe we should donate them to the daycare."

Other things we notice (with maybe some exaggeration for effect) this time of year.

- Our hands are so rough and dry if we touch a lotion bottle our hands wick all of the lotion out of the bottle without having to open it.
- The amount of dust that gets blown into our ears is enough to start  a small patch of arugula.
- We walked so much this weekend that the soles of our shoes lost a quarter inch of thickness.  And we've noticed that it *IS* uphill both ways (to and from wherever we're going)
- Our blisters have callouses.   Or is that the other way around?

No actual farmers were hurt in the writing of this post - just the faux ones.