Quarantine With the Trolls, online journal, part three

Hour 310? 313? of Quarantine

The chickens are telling us it's time to get up. I can hear the hens clucking and the rooster crowing. Troll Father must of allowed them out of the coop this morning.

The Burrough smells absolutely wonderful this morning. Father couldn't wait for me to wake up this morning, so he raided the refrigerator. He found a package of Newman Farm Heritage Berkshire Pork bacon I had hidden in there. He even had some buttermilk biscuits cooking. A sound was coming from him that was vaguely similar to the opening credits of Andy Griffith.

Younger is awake. Her spirits seem to have lifted with the morning. She appears eager to start her day and The search for the pups.

The girl pups still haven't returned. Father has said that if they aren't back by the time he gets his breakfast eaten, he will drive the roads with Younger, so they could begin the search for the day.

Older Troll can smell food, so she has come out of her lair to get her fair share. She'll disappear again once she stuffs her face.

Bacon almost makes up for not having an ice cream sandwich. Almost. Be even better if I had an ice cream sandwich to go with my bacon. Mmm-mm

Hour 314? Maybe 315? Of Quarantine

Father and Younger have returned from looking for the girl pups. They have had no luck. Younger is upset, and refuses to give up. As of now she is riding her old bike back through the wood trails, looking for her Minions.

Father of course has returned to his lair and reverted back to couch potato mode. He hasn't moved in a good 40 minutes or so. Him and Duke both seem to be enjoying the quiet of Easter and quarantine. Beagle boy of course doesn't appear to miss his younger sisters one bit.

Older Troll has just rushed in the door holler Daisy! Suddenly 2 wet smelly clumsy beagle pups jump on me knocking me down. I've been licked so much, I feel like Slimer just slimed my whole face and I'm going drown on the oozey goo clogging my nose. I can hear Troll Father hollering something about good beagle girls, good and smart, find way home. Older is hollering, Where Beauty come in at? I no seen her when I spied the oopsy one?

I really couldn't care less at this point when or how they appeared. I just wish Younger Troll would hurry up and get back from her search, so the girl dogs will quit suffocating me with their wet smelly dog breath kisses.

Hour 328? Maybe 329? of Quarantine

Troll Father has veered from his normal routine and left the house for a second time today. He did not appear to be in a very happy mood on his way out the door. As a matter of fact his last words as he exited the Burrough sounded suspiciously like "You no make me cookies no more. No cookies I no work good. I just get my own." He mumbled something else but I'm unsure exactly what high octane would have to do with cookies. I'm not big on sweets, and I always forget that he must have his bag of 3 Amigos and chocolate chip cookies weekly or else he turns sour. I assume he will return once he finds his self a sweet chocolate fix.

Both Trolls seem to finally be in a calm phase as of now. Earlier, they were in a full manic episode. Luckily for the Burrough, it appears they only busted the light switch covers in 2 rooms. Most of their manic energy seems to have been spent on out of control laughter, throwing pillow, and turning flips. Amazingly, they didn't knock the ceiling fan down. Younger Troll did climb up the corner of the wall and left foot prints on the ceiling. How she does this I will never know.

I've decided to retreat to my dark corner, nurse a Dr. Pepper, and wish no one ate my last ice cream sandwich. The Trolls have my nerves on edge. I can hear colors and feel the crickets chirping. My left eye started twitching about an hour ago, I can feel a vein in my forehead throb. With every little noise, my brain cringes inside my head. The clocks numbers are blindingly bright, and the constant spinning of the hands is dizzifying. I don't know how long I'll be able to stand this! I really don't want to be on the next episode of Snapped! Prayers and ice cream sandwiches requested!

Hour ~ does it really matter anymore what hour where in because I know for sure we're in the Twilight Zone now ~ of Quarantine

Yeah, so this is happening. I'm literally am in shock that Troll Father didn't put a stop to this. I've given him every option to back out. Now there's no turning back. It has begun. We will never survive the chicken math that is about to take effect.

Father Troll had ranted and raged over the last animals the Trolls and I have brought home. He roared, "No more! Bring no more here! I have no pet! You bring no more ever!" Well, with that type of edict, there was no way I was even considering getting the incubator out and hatching any little fuzzy wuzzy bits of happiness out.

Out of the blue yesterday, as we all were scrounging the cabinets for a lunch, he comments in an offend fashion, " I can't believe you don't have the incubator going yet with all the excess eggs where getting." He caught me off guard, fixing to bite into my sandwich. To be honest I just looked at him, mouth hanging open like a guppy. It was at least 2-3 minutes before what he said sunk in. A 1000 things went through my head. Of course, I don't ask a one of them, I just blinked, and said, "Right.....ugh".

Younger Troll of course heard this and has asked his assistance in showing her the steps of set-up so that she can do this her own next year (Oh, Lord, he knows not what he is doing!), she saved all eggs laid today and between the 2 they have it almost completely ready to go. Might as well fill'er up, even if we don't need too many more babies. Waste of electricity not to run a full incubator.

Figure best to take advantage in this lax in memory of his. It's rare for him to change his mind so easily. Technically, we're not bringing any chickens home though..... They're already here.

I do know he's made a mistake in showing Younger how to set up the incubator. Of all the animals, she truly enjoys the chickie chickie boom booms the most. Her beagles are just her minions. Toothless she truly dislikes because of the fact that the cat has chosen to be my little familiar.

Now, which hen is going to go broody? It's about that time. Be my luck.....

Current day:

Editor's note: The online journal just ends here. No one knows what happened to the troll family, if they survived quarantine, or if the gave in to their base pleasures or anything. We will never know whether or not more hens hatched than roosters or whether or not the Beagles were eaten.