How strange it seems to awaken to dawn's early light and a clear sky, to hear bird song instead of rain drops. Yesterday the weathermen were showing the snow falling at Lake Tahoe (up the road apiece), while predicting eighty-degree weather for tomorrow. Go figure. Anticipating a visit today from a SoCal friend, I started a pot of chili simmering while the rain drizzled down in the afternoon. If the temperature soars today, I probably should have made ice cream! There's just no way for this frog to know which way to jump.
Poor Poppy. She evidently stuck her leg in one of the many squirrel holes, and is limping badly. I'm hoping it's only a strained muscle. She's a big girl, and the extra weight of all that sodden wool can't be helping. The shearer works only on weekends, and it's been raining constantly since I called to arrange an appointment. Poppy can't be wrung out like a sponge and there's no way to clip her soggy coat, so shearing will have to wait until she dries out. In the meantime, Poppy hobbles about. Her injury hasn't affected her appetite. She makes her way up to the alfalfa pile in the morning, and then rather ingeniously lies down in the pen and munches her way through what she can reach, moves to a new spot and clears that. She takes her place in line in the evening, not about to miss out on bedtime snacks. Where there's a will, there's a way.
Seeing the sun this morning and knowing I'll see my friend later has sure put a smile on my face. It's going to be a good day.