There are days when the blog fodder piles up faster than I can write. Days when the animals are just too funny. Days full of joy when the Kids or dear friends come to visit. Whiny days when it is too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, or I have to dust. Days of despair when a beloved goat dies or an oak falls. Exciting days when a storm rages or I've found a great new writer. And then there are the other days. Ordinary days.
I let the chickens out of their coops and fed them. They and the wild birds shared the last of Joel's soft apples, cut in chunks as a special treat. Goats were milked and all the barn critters had breakfast of one sort or another. Milk was strained and the buckets washed, hummingbird feeders filled, and the kitchen cleaned up. Tree Guy and Sons came to make more small logs out of big ones. I did enough housework to keep from feeling guilt but put off dusting for another day. Jennie came to get milk for her lamb (named Lulu, of all things). I worked out a new design for a beaded Christmas ornament. Dusk fell. The chickens got their nightie-night treats and I gathered the eggs before shutting their doors. The girls and Poppy led the way down to the barn and bed. Frank did figure-eights around my legs as I filled the water trough, and Bess and Pearl joined the parade back to the house where lights glowed and dinner waited.
Some days are like that. Just ordinary days.