I forgot to mention the most traumatic thing about doing chores. After I got home Monday, Younger Son was already at work, having gotten a ride with a friend. The hay bins looked low, and since I wasn't sure they had been filled, t decided to take a fork full of hay to each pen.
I couldn't reach all the feed bins without going through squishy "animal by-products" I forked some onto the cleanest floor I could reach from adjoining empty pens. Just as I filled up my first forkful, I spied a hole in the side of the standing big bale. I also then remembered that Hubby had told me there was a snake in the bale. He had thought it was dead, but the next day it was gone.
Gulp! I hate snakes.
And I fear them with a fear so great that when I ran over one in the car, I picked up my feet. And here I was with a load of possibly snake filled hay. No way was I going to carry that over my shoulder! So I made three trips awkwardly holding the fork of hay in front of me. No snakes spotted.
But there was a snake skin on top of the bale. (Shudder!)