Yesterday finished the last of the two-toe pedicures for the goats, and I think we're all glad. It's a four-day process; one foot, each goat, each day. It's too hard on my back and their patience to do all four feet at once, and if I try to do four feet on one goat until we're done, I forget who's had their nails done and who hasn't. They get their trim while up on the milking stand and having their cereal. The milkers would be finished eating long before I could get around to the bucket chore and would be really antsy to get outside. The two-toe system works for me...most of the time. Most of the girls let me pick up the one hoof easily and it's no problem. Ruth, on the other hand (or hoof, as the case may be), fought me all the way. This is not a democracy and she doesn't get to be the boss of me, so for two days it was hang on to the back hoof while she kicked me black and blue, and try not to injure her or myself with the oh-so-sharp shears. Dripping sweat and cussing a blue streak, I still had to milk her out. Some days are like that.
The grass in the goat pen is green and lush right now, and the girls have upped their production big time. Ruth, Inga, and Cindy are still producing after over three years without freshening. I keep expecting them to dry up on their own, and the supply had dwindled to a gallon a day, including Sheila's contribution. Yesterday I brought in close to two gallons. With the great feed, the milk is rich and extra creamy...so good. None of that two-percent blue milk at Farview! When Tessie drops her kid and joins the ranks, I'll be running out of refrigerator space...and I've got two refrigerators as it is.
There was a regular parade of men here yesterday. At times, one hadn't left before the next one appeared. Joel came first, bringing a care package of leftovers from that great dinner the night before. Talk about the gift that keeps on giving! (The brisket was every bit as good last night as it was the first time. Insert smiley face here.) I traded him some aioli; he's a garlic lover, too. After the barn chores, the guy who installed the satellite computer system showed up to tuck away some cables he'd left hanging. He was still here when Joel came back with a forgotten package of leftovers. Walking out to say goodbye to Joel, I found that Fence Guy was hanging the gate to the new goat pen. In the music hall in my mind, I could hear Nelson Eddy in his RCMP uniform singing "Give me some men who are stout-hearted men...." Some days are like that. It was a good day.