All those nest builders in the barn have now become parents. Where they once flew back and forth bringing building materials, they are now run ragged bringing breakfast for the babies. The barn used to be a haven of peace and quiet while I milked; not any more. It's like living in an apartment building with noisy neighbors. Those babies never shut up! Their constant yeep, yeep, yeep fills the air, driving the parents and me to distraction. In relays, mother and father work incessantly to fill those demanding bottomless pits. I can't think I'm the only one looking forward to "empty nest syndrome."
Bessie Anne is feeling better, enough to want to go outside with me for chores. Her voice is hoarse and certainly not as effective as she might wish. The pills she must take are given a half-hour apart morning and night. After just these few days, when she sees me coming with a treat in one hand and the pill in the other, she gets up to leave the room. I am relentless. Four or five more days of this and it may turn her off treats for life. It's still better than giving a pill to a cat!
Opening the door to let the cats in last night, I was hit in the face with the overpowering scent of skunk. I don't know where those critters go in winter, but they're back! I do not, will not, feed skunks (whatever it is they eat). There is no more room in this inn.