Small Things

Bessie Anne was outside when the beastie boys began their song to greet the day yesterday.  She joined the chorus with enthusiasm and absolutely no talent.  I wouldn't say this to her face, but it really sounded like she was gargling, not yodeling.  On the plus side, it will probably keep her from being asked to join the pack and running away from home.

That voyeuristic mouse was on the rope again in the morning, dangling dangerously and trying to peek through the nail hole.  What makes this so funny to me is that wall is just a sheet of plywood between the milking room and the big sleeping room.  There is nothing on the other side that the mouse hasn't seen a hundred times and could easily see safely by walking around the corner, but it is obsessed with that nail hole.  Go figure.

Busy in the kitchen, I heard strange thumping from the living room in the afternoon.  Cats were asleep in the bedroom and Bess was with me.  Hmmm.  Going to check, there was a hawk sitting on the deck rail.  It must have been banging on the big window.  Other, smaller birds have taken on that "stranger" they've seen in the reflection, but never before has a hawk come so close.  It flew off when it saw me, but that wasn't the end of it.  Later, I stepped out the kitchen door and the hawk again startled me by flying out from under the deck right under my feet.  I can't think of a reason for it to be under there.

These small things, these little mysteries, make my days intriguing.